


Our Love Can't Die

by Henry_Sturges_to_Henry_Lincoln



Series: Just Keep Holding Onto Me [3]
Category: The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Endless love - Freeform, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pain, Soulmates, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-10
Updated: 2016-11-22
Packaged: 2018-05-06 00:49:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 41
Words: 43,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5396543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Henry_Sturges_to_Henry_Lincoln/pseuds/Henry_Sturges_to_Henry_Lincoln
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Next instillation of my Newtmas Maze Runner series!!!<br/>With bad news and new complications in their relatrionship, they have to try to keep it all together before they run out of time. They have to hold onto hope, because now, it's all they have.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One/Two

**Author's Note:**

> HERE IS DEATH CURE *celebrates then cries*  
> Reminder: This one follows the actual book, meaning Newt is indeed infected. And we'll have to deal with that misery again... ;3; So if you only want to read the happy ending, then keep an eye out for the next instillation in this series!!!! 
> 
> ***I DO NOT own Death Cure or any of the characters!***

This would've been no big deal if it wasn't for the smell. 

He'd been there from what he guessed was over three weeks a day, fed him the same meal a day, no more watch, no games, no company, no entertainment, no color, no books, just complete isolation. None of that was bothering him- it was his own stench. They didn't let him clean himself in any way, not even a change of clothes. The smell and just the overall feeling of it was setting his nerves on end. He wasn't sure why, but it just got to him. It scared him and was the only thing in this place that actually threatened his sanity. 

Though he made through everyday, just thinking about Newt. When he could calm himself down enough to get a solid memory of him, everything seemed clearer, if only for a moment. Though that seemed to be a double-edge sword; he was starting to notice that his memories of Newt's face or eyes or voice weren't as clear as they had been. He needed to see him again. 

But for now, there was nothing he could do. 

So he went through a daily schedule. He ate, slept, exercised, day-dreamed about revenge, spent countless hours thinking about Newt, and he waited. 

Then on the twenty-sixth day, the door opened. 

 

 

Thomas had imagined that door opening countless times. Imagined the way he'd jump up and escape at any cost, find Newt and Minho and Brenda and Jorge and everyone else and just storm through and out of WICKED. But when the door actually opened, he was so shocked that he forget to move. He realized it was probably for the best, though. Knowing WICKED, the barrier was up. His time for escape hadn't arrived yet. 

Rat Man was the one who walked in. "Good morning, Thomas." he said with a nod, holding a thick folder. 

Rat Man didn't wait for a response as he closed the door behind him and took a seat. He shuffled through his messy array of papers until he found what he was looking for. He gave Thomas a pathetic excuse for a grin and folded his hands on the table. Thomas replied then, not realizing how long he hadn't used his voice until then. "It'll be a good morning if you let me out," he said, shocked at how hoarse his voice was. 

Rat Man nodded. "Trust me, you'll be hearing plenty of positive news today," he assured. 

"I'm sure," Thomas snapped. "So what, you gonna tell me I'm not crazy? Don't have the Flare, never did?" 

"Oh Thomas," he said, "you do have the Flare, we never lied to you." 

Thomas was taken aback for a moment before he forced the surprise away. He had come to terms with it, out there in the Scorch. But what mattered was that he was still sane, and that he was still making it. "You don't understand what I came in here to tell you," Rat Man continued, "you know very well there is a disease destroying and breaking down the minds of the public- worldwide. WICKED has had one purpose- map the candidates brain patterns, build a blue print, and do all we can to develop a cure from it. All those who died, who got hurt- they knew the stakes when they entered this. We all knew. And we're very close now, to the end of it. Very, very close." 

Thomas had a few choice words and jabs that Rat Man ignored before he said something again; "Anyways, there's something you need to know, Thomas." 

"And what's that?" Thomas asked bitterly. 

"You're a member of an extremely rare group of people. The Flare is in you, Thomas, but it doesn't affect you. You're immune." 

Thomas' heart skipped a beat. Those terrible monsters, the things he'd been prepping himself to become since day one in the Scorch- he didn't have to be one. He was going to be... okay. But before Thomas could even think of a response, Rat Man spoke again; "on the streets, they call people like you Munies. And they really, really hate you."


	2. Chapter Three/Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter in Death Cure for my lovlies! (Still can't believe we made it here already!!) 
> 
> ***I DO NOT own Death Cure or any of the characters!***

This was something Thomas believed. 

WICKED had told him many things, many things that Thomas knew were lies. Hell, every time he was informed of something from them, he didn't trust it. And he was right not to, they were always lying. But this- this was different. Thomas knew, somewhere, that he was immune. He knew somewhere the rest of the world hated him. It was familiar, he had known it once and so he knew it now. 

"I see you believe me," Rat Man said, pulling him from his thoughts. "That was how WICKED was born. The moment we realized that there were people like you, people with the virus but who weren't affected by it, we knew we had to bring you together. To figure this out for those who aren't so lucky. Most of you and your friends are immune, though, not all. You see Thomas, when you have an experiment, you must have a control group. It keeps the data in context." 

The last part sent a sudden chill over Thomas' skin. "What?... Who's not...?" 

"Who's not immune?" Rat Man finished it for him. "Well I think they should find out before you do, don't you agree? But first thing's first, let's do something about that smell. Let's get you to the showers, then get you a fresh change of clothes." 

Thomas was so relieved he thought he might not be able to get up from his place. But of course, he did. He asked some questions as they walked, of course. The only somewhat important thing he found out was that the "killzone" that they had heard so much about was actually their brains. It made sense now, that was where the disease did its killing. 

To say Thomas had a lot on his mind was an understatement. But for the moment, he pushed it away and replaced it with the blissful thought of a shower. Even better, the chance he might get to see Newt afterwards- after almost a month. Thomas thought the couple of days they were separated here and there in the Scorch was bad, but a month? That was hell. 

***

When they made it to the showers room, Thomas took a look around. Showers and lockers; all the lockers locked save for one- one that was open with a fresh pair of clothes, socks, shoes and even a watch. "You have about thirty minutes, when you're done, just sit tight. I'll come back for you and you'll be reunited with your friends." 

Thomas' heart leaped. Newt. Minho. He missed them, more than anything. He couldn't wait to see Newt's face again, hear his voice, feel him- the excitement was so great, Thomas thought he might start giggling. In fact, the only thing that kept him from doing so was the fact that Rat Man stood right there. 

"See you in a half hour," Rat Man said before leaving, shutting the door behind him. 

Thomas' mind shifted to the beautiful thing that was a hot shower. He let his mind slip, removed his clothes and got to work on making himself clean and human again. 

 

 

He felt unbelievably good. Comfortable T-Shirt, jeans, running shoes, his watch, fresh, soft socks. He felt reborn; he felt better now, more confident. He knew he would take control of his own life again, and that was amazing. 

Thomas had to wait only a moment before he heard footsteps, saw Rat Man making his way back to him. "Well, aren't you looking spiffy?" Rat Man commented, pulling that ever-so-uncomfortable excuse of a smile again. 

There were a million sarcastic things he could've said. But his main focus was getting back to Newt and the others and the last thing he needed to do now was say something to mess something up. "I feel great. So thank you." he said, faking a smile. "So when do I get to go see the Gladers?" 

"Right now," Rat Man said with a nod, starting down the hall he had just come from. "All of you faced different trials for Phase Three." 

And Rat Man's moment of bearability was gone. "So you're telling me you put everyone through some kind of torture?" 

Rat Man didn't reply. 

When they reached the end of the hall, they came to a small door. Rat Man didn't hesitate to open it and step through. It was a small auditorium, a dozen or two row of seats. Scattered within them; his friends. They all looked healthy and clean, Group B was there too. "Well I've been shucked and gone to heaven. It's Thomas!" Minho called out, making several people turn around. 

Gladers cheered. Newt whipped around to see and Thomas' heart faltered when they saw each other. A big smile found Newt's face and he ran up the isle to him, throwing his arms around him. Thomas hugged him back tightly, letting out a breath of relief. He was okay. Over Newt's shoulder and the beating of his own heart, Thomas looked around to see that everyone else was present. He noticed just about everyone right away except Brenda and Jorge, which worried him. 

Then he met eyes with Teresa. She smiled widely, her features lightening. In that moment, he saw his best friend. He forget everything she had ever done and was happy to see her, alive and well. It didn't last, though. But there was a longing, to try and fix things. 

Newt kissed Thomas' cheek about seven times before Thomas turned his head and caught one of those kisses. They giggled softly against each others' lips, looking into each other's eyes. Nothing else was there; just him and Newt, nothing else. His beautiful brown eyes, gorgeous, pale face. Everything about him was reviving. 

When the world around snapped back into place, Thomas felt dizzy. He smiled and Newt returned it, then Newt stood beside him, taking his hand and hugging his arm. Thomas smiled and they made their way down the steps, back to where Minho and Newt had been sitting. 

Teresa had been in the row in front of their seats and turned back to look at Thomas. "Hey." he said. 

"Hey. You okay?" 

"I'm fine, been a rough couple weeks." he said with a slight nod. 

"I tried, Tom. I tried to talk to you every day. They cut us off, but I think... I think it was worth it." she said, smiling. 

For some reason, her words angered him. And he knew then that they'd never be the same again. What they had was gone, but she liked to act like it wasn't. An odd determination to prove her wrong, to prove that she couldn't get away with that. He thought maybe they could find some kind of peace, one day, but for now he resolved the only people he'd wholly trust were Minho and Newt. 

"Everyone quiet down," Rat Man said, making his way down the steps, "we have a few things to go over before we begin the Swipe." 

Something clicked somewhere in the depths of Thomas' mind. "The Swipe", that sounded familiar. Newt hugged Thomas' arms tighter, giving him a questioning look. Thomas was going to explain to him that it sounded familiar, but Rat Man cut him off when he reached the podium at the end of the room. 

"That's right, ladies and gents. You're getting your memories back."


	3. Chapter Five/Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SORRY FOR SUCH A DELAYED UPDATE. My friend came over today! 
> 
> ***I DO NOT own Death Cure or any of the characters!***

Thomas was at a loss for words. 

Their memories? Thomas had practically kissed those goodbye, and now the opportunity to get them back was here, Thomas didn't exactly know how he felt about it. Rat Man was awfully chipper and happy about it, and apparently it wasn't just annoying Thomas because Minho spoke up; "I outta march right up there and smash your nose in. Maybe you'll stop acting like you haven't killed our friends." 

"I'd love to see that rat nose smashed in!" Newt snapped. 

The anger in Newt's voice scared him. Thomas suddenly got very worried about whatever Newt's trial for Phase Three was; must've been something awful.

Rat Man rolled his eyes and, as usual, and did his damn hardest to convince them it was justified. Thomas realized then that the ends didn't justify the means, especially not when you're apart of the "means". Teresa spoke up, as if her to herself: "WICKED is good." 

"What?" Frypan asked incredulously. 

"Think about it," she said, louder now. "Of all things I could've written on my arm, that's what I choice. WICKED is good." 

"I agree." Aris piped up, then everyone was in an uproar. 

Everyone was arguing angrily. Usually, Thomas was just observing, and Newt was doing the same. But... This time, Newt was yelling back at others just as bad, if not worse. Thomas frowned and watched him, not even noticing everyone else anymore. Just Newt's face, twisted in an anger he'd never seen. 

"Silence!" Rat Man roared, snapping Thomas out of his trance. 

"Look," Rat Man began once everyone had quieted down. "I can understand your mistrust- it's well placed. But I promise, once you have your memories back-" 

"What if we don't want them back?" Frypan asked. 

Thomas felt relieved; he had been thinking the same. All Thomas knew about his past was that he sided with WICKED, and after this- after all the lives lost, after all the torture his friends were subjected to, all the horrors he'd seen- he didn't want to even risk feeling even somewhat positively towards WICKED. Ever. 

Rat Man briefly tried to talk them into it, then sighed. "If you don't want the Swipe, you don't have to have it." he finally said. 

Thomas leaned in to Minho and Newt, "There's no way we do this," he whispered.

"Amen, brother." Minho said, "I don't want these whackos in my head, and I sure as hell don't trust what they put in it." 

Newt nodded. "We need to make a bloody move when the time's right."

Thomas agreed. "Yes, but not too soon. Make them think they've got nothing to worry about, like we're here to stay." 

An odd sensation trickled through him, one he hadn't felt for a long time. Strength, control. Freedom. It seemed like forever since he and his friends plotted against the odds, but damn it felt good. Everyone got up and started after where Rat Man was leading him, but his heart seemed to stop. Many, many people were considering getting their memories back. 

***

When they made it to the rooms where the Swipe would take place, Thomas was sure some people would back out now. 

Beds with hideous, intimidating contraptions looming over it, about the size for a head to go in. To Thomas, it looked like the very jaws of death, and he sure as hell would never put his head in that thing. The way one person in white coats was stationed at each one made a chill crawl up Thomas' side. Newt took his hand and squeezed it. "Creepy" he mouthed, and Thomas nodded. 

The only thing that ever almost made Thomas consider was that this surgery would remove whatever it was that allowed WICKED to control them. But he wouldn't risk it, not when WICKED was giving their "good word". 

They were just going to start, when Rat Man spoke up again. "Well. There's something you should all know. Something you should hear from me before you remember the testing..." 

"What are you talking about?" Harriet snapped. 

"Some of you... Aren't immune. I'm going to list who, please, please do try to take it calmly."

 

 

The room fell into a heavy silence, everyone staring at Rat Man. 

"Most of you are immune, the control group was very small, but there are some. Those who are not immune; Newt..." 

And just like that, he went deaf. Thomas felt his legs give out, felt himself fall to his knees, but he wasn't exactly aware of it. He watched Rat Man's lips move as he listed more name, but Thomas didn't hear a damn thing. Nothing except Newt's name echoing his mind.

'No,' he thought, thinking about that smile. Thinking about those eyes, his beautiful soul, his laugh, his voice, his heart- everything Thomas ever fell in love with. 'You can't take it away...' 

"Tommy?" 

Once again, it was his voice. His beautiful, familiar voice that snapped him out of it. That saved him, again. 

Thomas reached out rather frantically and grabbed Newt's face. "We'll fix it, we'll stay-- w-we'll get the cure," Thomas said with a desperate nod, tears beading his eyes. "You're gonna be just fine, I won't let anything happen to you; not you, Newt. I'll-"

"Tommy," Newt said gently, placing a hand on Thomas' cheek. Thomas shut his eyes and leaned against his divine touch. "Tommy, don't do that." 

"Do what?" He asked, opening his eyes and turning them up towards Newt. 

"Cry." Newt said, using his other hand to wipe away a tear Thomas hadn't realized had fallen. "And don't make promises you can't keep," Newt whispered. 

Thomas' eyes widened and his heart broke. Surely Newt couldn't have accepted it already. Surely wasn't he going to lay down and let this happen to him. He couldn't. Thomas wouldn't let him. 

"Then I'll promise you this. You and I, we're fighting this. We're fighting to fix you- tooth and nail- until the bitter end. Okay?" Thomas asked, pulling one of his hands away from Newt to hold up his pinkie. 

Newt looked at Thomas' finger, then shut his eyes, hiding the fear and pain Thomas could see deep inside. A smile found his face, accompanied by the smallest grin. When his eyes opened again, Thomas almost laughed- that spark. It was there. That defiance, that rebellion, that freedom- the thing that hooked Thomas from the very beginning. That glimmer in his eyes; it gave Thomas hope. 

"Now that's a promise I'll let ya make," he said, wrapping his pinkie around Thomas'. 

Somehow, Thomas was able to stand up again. He put a hand on the back of Newt's head and pulled in him close against his chest, holding him protectively. As if his will power and presence alone could keep the Flare away. He looked around to see several people crying and hugging and Thomas watched, hating WICKED more than he ever had before. 

Teresa made her way over and Thomas almost yelled at her to go away. She was the last person he wanted to see. "I'm so sorry, Tom." she muttered. 

Thomas hated her a little less right then. It made him think of when she commented on how she could tell they were together, just by the way they looked at each other. All her little comments about their relationship before; they were gentle. Always in the same, doting tone as that one. Just not as sad. Thomas' heart twisted, yearned for the days in the Maze. Yearned for the old Teresa back, and definitely the safe Newt. 

Thomas nodded a little, not sure what to say. "Anyway," Minho said, "I think it's no surprise to anyone that I don't like you." he started, "but I still want to know what your take on all this is- since you and Thomas are the ones with the most memory here." 

Thomas had to admit, he was curious what she had to say. 

"I think we should do it," she said without missing a beat. 

Thomas almost audibly groaned; of course she did. 

There was brief discussion, trying to convince her otherwise. But Thomas tuned most of it out, she wasn't going to change her mind. She didn't do that. 

"That settles it," Minho finally said it, "if this chick is doing it, I'm one-hundred percent against it." 

Thomas couldn't have said it better himself. There was something off about her, and whatever decision was "good" to her seemed terribly, terribly bad. 

"Suit yourselves," she said. She glanced at Thomas and the hurt in her eyes almost made Thomas apologize, but he didn't let it show. He held her stare strong, showed no emotion. She looked away, the sadness not leaving her face as she walked away. 

Newt and Minho looked at Thomas expectantly. Thomas nodded, knowing what they wanted, and told them just what they wanted to hear- and what he had been dying to say. "We'll play along. Get our chance. Then, we're out of here."


	4. Chapter Seven/Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter for my lovlies :) It's really late here, I should be tired, buut. I'm just not XD So another chapter! 
> 
> ***I DO NOT own Death Cure or any of the characters!***

Those dumb enough to go through the procedure were each assigned their own bed. He would call off a name, they'd find their bed, then they'd continue to the next room where he called off more names and more people left the group. 

When Newt's name was called, Newt informed Rat Man he was doing it. Rat Man frowned, "very well." he said, and they continued. 

And when Minho's turn came up, he denied. Thomas denied it as well. 

In the final room, the one where Thomas had refused, something took him by utter shock. It was Brenda. Thomas stared, shell-shocked, but Brenda just shook her head. Then, out of nowhere, sprinted across the room and threw her arms around Thomas. "Don't trust them. Thomas, do not ever trust them." she whispered, before being yelled at to return to her post. 

Thomas didn't know what to think. He'd been lied to and betrayed so many times, but something about Brenda made him feel okay. Like she was someone he could trust. With a sigh, fed up with all these surprise twists and betrayals, Thomas pushed it away from his mind. There was no point losing sleep over it, not anymore. 

There was a moment, just one, of some sort of calm. People being prepped for their surgery, Rat Man- or, Janson, as they informed them- was too busy with the patients. Thomas thought about bolting right then and there, but he hesitated. And that was a mistake. Just moments after, armed guards began making their way in. 

"We waited too bloody long," Newt whispered grumpily. 

"They would've gotten us anyway, the moment will present itself," Thomas whispered back, so softly he almost didn't hear himself. 

When the guards arrived, they pointed some bulky, nasty-looking guns at them. "Do as they say," Janson said, walking over. "Let them escort you to your room and do completely as commanded. One wrong move, and they'll shoot you. It won't kill you, you'll just experience the worst five minutes of your life." 

"What's all this klunk?" Minho snapped. "You just told us we could make our own choice." 

"You did." Janson said matter-of-factly, "but now you have to deal with the consequences." he glanced up at the guards. "Take these rebels back to their room. If they give you any problems, use whatever force necessary." 

 

 

Launchers. Those nasty things were Launchers. 

They were well taught that if they made a bad move, they'd be shot. It seemed everyone of the guards had said it by now. One of the men grabbed Thomas by the arm and yanked him away from Newt, their hands slipping apart. Thomas almost screamed; he wanted to be with Newt every second he could. 

But he knew better than to struggle, it'd just cause problems. 

Minho knew it too well, as he barely moved at all, making the guard who had him basically drag him. Newt however, didn't know it at all. He struggled against the big man pulling him along to absolutely no avail. 

When they reached the door, one of the guards who wasn't preoccupied with one of the boys, walked forward and slid her key card- opening the door. Just a small bedroom; two sets of bunk beds, a dresser, and a kitchenette. Thomas was actually surprised. He had expected something like the Slammer; cold walls and nothing comfortable. 

The men pushed the Gladers inside and closed the door swiftly behind them. 

They discussed things, mostly pointless things. And all it seemed to do was tick Newt off. Eventually, he just detached himself from the conversations and sat on the floor, crossing his arms. Thomas and Minho exchanged worried glances. 

It wasn't long before the guards returned, leaving them meals. 

They all ate in silence, all thinking. When they were finished, everyone seemed to be in a much better place. Newt seemed distant, and it broke Thomas down, but he was right at Thomas' side like he usually was. "Tomorrow." Thomas said. 

Minho nodded, "tomorrow. Somehow." 

Newt yawned, making the other two do the same. "Then let's quit yappin' and get some bloody shut-eye." 

Thomas nodded. Minho crawled on the top bunk while Thomas and Newt settled in on the bottom one; the other set of bunk beds being left untouched. Newt had his head rested on Thomas' chest, groggily drawing circles on his chest. "Tommy?" 

"Yeah?" Thomas asked, his voice already heavy with on-coming sleep. 

"What if this it? What if this is the last time I get to lay on your chest and fall asleep with you?" 

Thomas woke right up, "Newt..." 

Newt didn't say anything. Thomas sighed and hugged him, giving him a squeeze. "You've gotta try, Newt. You've gotta do what you can do to hold on, and I'll do what I can do to fix you." 

"Okay," he said, and he sounded so small and scared. 

Thomas let out a shaky sigh and just held him. He heard Minho shift on the bunk overhead, "Shuck, guys. You're breaking my heart." he said, and despite his word choice, Thomas had never heard him so sad.


	5. Chapter Nine/Ten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO SORRY, DARLINGS. THE LAST COUPLE DAYS HAVE BEEN HECTIC, AND THE NEXT TWO DAYS PROBABLY WILL BE, TOO. Just bear with me, darlings!!!!! 
> 
> ***I DO NOT own Death Cure or any of the characters!***

Despite the heartache he experienced before falling asleep, his sleep was full of dreams. Of memories. 

He saw a lot of things, just bits and pieces of several memories. Smiling at his mother across the dinner table, her tears when his father was diagnosed with the Flare, riding his bike, then men- from WICKED- coming to take him away because he was immune. And his mother gives him to them, reminding him how happy she is for him and how much she loves him. 

Then a knocking wakes him. 

Newt stirred in his arms as Thomas perched himself up on his elbows, Minho groaning overhead. Thomas rubbed some sleep from his eyes, glancing over at Rat Man and some guards who stood in the doorway. "Rise and shine, boys." he said, "we've decided to give you your memories back whether you like it or not." 

 

 

"Like hell you are," Newt spat, not even sitting up yet. 

Thomas couldn't remember ever seeing such fire in his eyes. Thomas, Newt and Minho quickly rose from their beds, Newt's fists clenched tightly and rather menacingly at his sides. A sudden chill crept over Thomas; that was the first time he'd ever been scared of Newt. It made him sick. 

"You told us we could decide," Minho grumbled. 

"We changed our minds." Janson said. "Lies are over with, and nothing good will come from you boys still being in the dark. Newt, you'll most benefit of a cure, after all." 

"I don't care about myself anymore," Newt growled, and Thomas seriously hoped he was just putting up a defensive front. 

Minho butt in, "Rat Man's right." Thomas could feel the anger rising in Newt. Minho continued; "If we can make a cure- for Newt and for everyone else, we need to go. We'd be selfish not to." Thomas had been starting to get a little ticked off himself, but then Minho shot them a look. Then he walked right out into the hallway. 

Thomas' nerves came to life; this was it. This was the only chance they were going to have. 

Thomas glanced over and was relieved to see Newt's spark nestled in his eyes, right where it should be. 

They all headed to the door, pretending to be grumpy about Minho's "sudden change of heart". As Thomas followed, though, he really hoped Minho had a plan. They followed him all the way to the place that had been yesterday. Apparently, the other subjects were in the midst of recovery. And that was when Newt pounced; "Call them subjects again and I'll break your bloody neck!" Newt hollered, anger and some sort of madness nestled in his eyes. 

Thomas' heart practically gave out when the guards grabbed Newt and threw him on the ground, pointing those terrible weapons at him. 

"Wait!" Janson yelled. "Wait! Don't disable him, let's just get this over with." 

And for once in his life, Thomas liked Janson. Thomas rushed over to Newt and helped him to his feet. And this time, when Newt wanted to stand on his own like he had many, many other times, Thomas didn't allow him to. This time, when Thomas wrapped his arm around Newt's waist, he held Newt despite his brief struggling and backed up with him. Newt didn't fight him for long. 

"Newt, Minho," Thomas began, looking at them both, taking time in exchanging heavy glances, "I think we should do what we're supposed to do. What we all agreed on last night." 

A nervous smile found Minho's face, and a defiant one found Newt's. 

Now or never.


	6. Chapter Eleven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another update, lovlies <3 Sorry I only had time for one :( I'll try to post another two or three updates before bed!!!!
> 
> ***I DO NOT own Death Cure or any of the characters!***

Thomas didn't wait another minute, he swung his elbow back, connecting with the guard behind him. 

From the corner of his eye, he watched Newt tackle another guard while Minho punching one. Thomas noticed the fifth guard raising her gun at Newt and an icy fire erupted in Thomas' veins. He dashed forward and slammed into her, shoving the weapon towards the ceiling. It was a reckless, impulsive move, and he payed for it as the her weapon swung into the side of Thomas' head. 

Pain erupted all over and he let out a groan, crumpling to his knees. 'I have to get up,' he thought, 'I have to protect Newt.'

Despite the pain, he started pushing himself up. But a heavy weight kept him pinned- a knee in his back. Thomas couldn't see the others, as the woman had pressed the gun to his head, but the sounds of struggle had already died. He didn't need to look to know they had been completely contained within just minutes. 

"What are you people thinking!?" Janson roared. "You honestly think you three children could overpower five guards!? Five adults!? Maybe the Flare has taken your minds!" 

"Shut up!" Newt screamed, "just shut u-" he was cut short, followed by a pained sound. 

The thought of one of these guards hurting Newt made Thomas tremble with rage. But the weapon pressed at his head dug into his skull, "don't even think about," she warned. 

"Get them up!" Janson barked. 

Janson continued to yell and holler at them, but then Thomas blurted something out, surprising himself. "I was just a kid," he said. 

"Excuse me?" Janson asked, caught off guard. 

"I was just a kid," Thomas repeated. "They brainwashed me... into helping. Into doing those things." 

"Enough," Janson said, looking to one of the guards. "Get a nurse down here, Brenda's ready. We'll do Thomas first. Take the others to the waiting room."

Another guard took his arm and they started escorting him. "I won't let you!" Thomas screamed, kicking. Hysteria was taking its hold- they couldn't do this to him, he didn't want them too. 

But as they effortlessly carried him along, and effortlessly did the same to Newt despite his cries of protest, it dawned on Thomas that he'd lost the fight. His only hope now was Brenda. 

***

Brenda was there, in her lab coat, standing beside his bed. He searched her eyes, her features, for something- anything. But she was impossible to read. "Why are you working for them?" he asked, rather weakly. 

"It's better to just shut your mouth," she said. 

The guards spun him around and laid him back on the bed. One of the guards pinned him while the other kept her Launcher trained on him. "Sedate him." The words, with the ugly, metal contraption hanging overhead, made him terrified. 

Brenda placed a gentle hand on Thomas, "you are going to be asleep in a couple seconds. Do you understand?" She asked, stressing the last words and giving him a strong look. Thomas didn't need another hint. 

Thomas nodded. 

"Good. You better be." And a smile flashed across her face.


	7. AUTHOR'S NOTE!!!!

Hey guys! Sorry for the lacking updates; I just want everyone to know, I AM NOT LOSING INTEREST IN ANYWAY, SHAPE OR FORM AND IF I COULD, I WOULD BE UPDATING LIKE CRAZY. But my week's been crazyyy. And my phone broke- that wouldn't be a big deal, but we're almost out of internet data and since I don't have a phone... I should be getting in a day or two, though [the new phone], so the next update should be then :)   
I LOVE YOU ALL, DON'T GIVE UP ON ME, I'LL BE BACK MY DARLINGS.


	8. Chapter Twelve/Thirteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am back my dearest darlings :3 My mom let me open a Christmas present early-- I got a dark red, HP laptop... :))))))) I am already enjoying updating on this thing:3
> 
> I hope I didn't lose any of you from that ridiculous time gap!!!!! I AM BACK!! 
> 
> ***I DO NOT own Death Cure or any of the characters!***

Thomas noticed it, whatever was hidden in her eyes. 

As Brenda stepped towards Thomas with the syringe, she tripped. She caught the bed with her right hand, but the syringe pierced one of the guards arm. And then she pressed the liquid into his skin. 

'Brenda,' Thomas thought, 'you're a genius.' 

"What the hell!?" the man screamed, but his eyes were already hazing. 

Thomas didn't miss his chance. Now that the man's iron grip wasn't keeping him down anymore, he swung his legs upward and connected jarringly with the female guard. The female guard let out a cry, sending the guard to the ground. Thomas scrambled after her, grabbing her Launcher. Thomas pointed it at her as Brenda sprinted to get the male guard's weapon and pointed it at him. Thomas couldn't believe it, they did it. 

A smile found his face as he desperately sucked in breaths. Brenda hadn't lied. 

The smile left his face and shock took its place as Brenda fired the weapon at the man. 

Electricity created a god-awful high frequency sound as it shot from the barrel- it's crackling fingers reached and danced all over the man's face, not releasing him even as he kicked and convulsed on the ground. 

Thomas stood and stared, shocked. He couldn't believe what these weapons did to people and that Brenda could fire one without the slightest hesitation. Though, if Thomas hadn't been totally sure Brenda was with him, he was now. 

He looked over at her, and she was already grinning at him. "I have always wanted to do that..." 

Thomas laughed a little, "Come on," he said, "we need to get Newt and Minho." he said, his heart crying at Newt's name. 

***

Thomas and Brenda sprinted through the halls, Brenda obviously leading. She wasn't slow, but Thomas still found himself urging her to hurry- he was so worried about Newt. Finally, they reached a door. Brenda gave him the briefest of warning glance and Thomas steeled himself as she slide her key card, the door hissing open. Thomas was through the door first. Rat Man sprang to his feet, looking terrified, he didn't even have time to yell before Brenda shot down two of the guards. Newt and Minho tackle the third, and Minho took his weapon. 

Thomas let out a sigh of relief, seeing Newt fine. Newt ran forward and threw his arms around Thomas, "you're okay?" Newt whispered against Thomas' neck, but somehow Thomas still heard him over his racing heart. 

"I'm alright," Thomas said, holding the Launcher out away from his body and Newt- his other hand wrapped around Newt's waist. 

Thomas snapped out of his moment of bliss when Rat Man trained his glare on them. Thomas returned it and herded Newt to his side, keeping one arm wrapped around him, staring Janson down. "Give me your key card." Thomas demanded, not able to help but puff out his chest a bit when he felt Newt gripping his shirt. 

Rat Man just stared him right back down. Thomas pushed Newt behind him and removed his arm from him, using it to hold up the mighty weapon- pointing it at Janson. "Give me your key card!" he yelled, "then get on the ground, hands on your head." he said, voice fearless and steady. 

"This is crazy," Janson muttered, handing his card over. "You have absolutely no chance getting out of this complex," he said calmly. 

Thomas knew their odds were slim, but somehow, with Newt and Minho and Brenda at his side and weapons in their hands, he knew they'd get out of this. "After what we've been through, we can handle this." Thomas smiled. "Thanks for the training. Now, how did you put it... the worst five minutes of your life?" 

And with that, Thomas pulled the trigger. 

"That can't feel good," Thomas said to his friends, turning to face them. 

"It won't kill him." Brenda said. 

"That's a shame," Minho added. 

"Alright, we're leaving." Thomas said after a moment, taking Newt's hand. 

"I'll bloody drink to that," he said, giving Thomas' hand a lovely squeeze. 

Then there it was again; a feeling he shouldn't be able to feel after all they've been through- happiness. Hope. Rebellion. This was something, a turning point. They made it this far, and there was no way in hell they were messing things up now. They were together, they were armed, and they were ready. 

They had a plan after a minute of throwing around ideas; make it to Jorge and the Berg he apparently pilots. When they heard footsteps, though, they had to stop the discussion. Minho ran to the door and took a stance. "They'll have to come through here." he said. 

"Newt," Thomas said, his voice softening automatically every time he talked to him now, "get on the other side of the doorway. Brenda and I will shoot who we can, and you two will get who you can from the sides, okay?" 

"Sounds like a plan, boss." Newt said with a little smirk that set Thomas' cheeks on fire. Newt craned up and kissed Thomas briefly before rushing to his post. 

Somehow Thomas managed to gain control and took his position. 

 

 

Thomas fired, hitting the first guard who came through the door. 

Minho acted before Thomas could, grabbing one of the next guards and attacking them against the wall. Brenda fired, hitting a guard. Newt pushed the next guard's weapon right out of his hand, using the moment of shock from the man to punch him in the face, and before another thing could happen, Newt shot the man right in the chest. 

"Tommy!" Newt yelled, making Thomas turn his undivided attention to him. "A bloody beetle-blade's watchin' us, we gotta tail it out of here or they'll just keep sending more guards!" 

Thomas glanced at the little robot, then at the empty doorway. He took a step toward the guard who Minho had pinned to the floor, "how many of there are you? Are more coming?" 

At first, she didn't answer, but Minho pressed the gun against her cheek and she piped right up; "There's at least fifty on duty." she blurted. 

"Then where are they?" Minho asked. 

"I don't know."

"Don't lie to me!" Minho shouted. 

"Something else is going on," she blurted. "I don't know what it is, though, I swear." 

Thomas studied her. As much as he hated to admit, she seemed honest. Minho seemed to notice that Thomas was convinced. Instead of pressing her more, he just grabbed her by the back of her shirt and yanked her up. "Well, I guess this nice lady can be our hostage." 

They were running out of there in a second; Brenda leading the way, Minho and his hostage behind her, Thomas behind them with his hand linked to Newt's behind him. They made it through the hallway, then came to a door at the end of the hall. Thomas let go of Newt's hand and ran to the door, slipping the key card out of his pocket. "I wouldn't do that!" the hostage yelled, "there's probably twenty guard on the other side, waiting to burn you to a crisp."

She was right, but they had to do this. Thomas glanced at Minho and Newt, "are we up for this?" 

Minho pushed the hostage to the panel, "you're gonna open this for us while we take position and focus on your friends. Try anything, and you're dead. Trust me." Minho said, then looked at Thomas. 

Thomas nodded and gave everyone a position, Newt right beside him. "On three." Thomas said, not only to their hostage, but to his friends. 

Thomas craned his head over and smashed his lips messily into Newt. They pulled away and Newt looked flustered, making Thomas smirk. "One," he said, looking towards the door. "Two." he said, shaking off the passion and bubbles from that moment.

Thomas trained his gun at the door and sucked in a breath. 

But before he could speak, an alarm struck his ears and all the lights went out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgive any grammatical errors, lovelies! New laptop, stiff keys XDD


	9. Chapter Fourteen/Fifteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow guys. We've got AT LEAST a foot and a half of snow here. It has literally been snowing all day. I hope my mom makes it home safely from work!   
> On a lighter note, our pug had puppies this morning! Granted, it was at 3:30 and I've been up since then because she panics if I'm not there while she's having her babies... But yay, puppies! They're so tiny x3 They all made it, they're all healthy and they're all chubby XD Two boys, two girls :)
> 
> Anyway, on to the chapter XD
> 
> ***I DO NOT own Death Cure or any of the characters!***

Thomas' core seemed to shudder at the sudden darkness. 

He blinked his eyes rapidly, doing what he could to adjust to the darkness. It was so damn hard to focus though, with that alarm making Thomas' brain scream. "The guard's gone!" Minho shouted, somehow, over the alarm. "I can't find her!" 

Thomas felt Newt's hand find his, "Tommy, what's the plan!" he shouted. 

Thomas gave his hand a squeeze just briefly before letting go and starting towards the door. "Back in positions. I'll use Rat Man's key card and open the door. Start shooting the moment those doors open!" he shouted, reaching the panel. 

It took him only a second to find where the card fit, then he slid it down. A click sounded and the doors started inward. "Now!" Minho bellowed over the alarm. 

Grenades of electricity shot into the darkness of the opening doors. Thomas scurried out of the way and into his position, raising his gun and adding to the fire. But they got no return fire. No screams, no madness, nothing. "Stop!" Thomas yelled, letting his gun fall to his side. 

They did as told. Everyone stared at the room, waiting for the popping of angry bolts to calm before they would even attempt to walk into the room. Everyone was yelling, as if the alarm wasn't making it hard enough for Thomas to think. Thomas took Newt's hand, feeling a little calmer at the touch. Thomas walked through the doorway. The place was familiar, but he couldn't quite piece any of it together. Thank god for Brenda. 

And then the alarm stopped. 

"What now?" Thomas asked, breaking the new and terrifying silence. 

The grenades were no longer leaving any light, but red, hazy emergency lights had buzzed to life. They were in a large reception area; tables, couches, all that. But not a single person. 

They didn't take too much time to dwell on it. "Brenda," Thomas said, turning to her. "We need your help. We need to get to the hangar and find Jorge, need to get him getting a Berg ready. Minho and Newt, you two can stay with Jorge and help him prepare. Brenda and I can go get the others." Newt frowned, but Thomas didn't stop to acknowledge it just yet. 

"We'll need to stock up on weapons." Brenda said, "weapon depot is on the way to the hangar, but there's no way it's not guarded." 

"We've seen worse," Minho said. 

"We'll cut right through 'em all," Newt growled and Thomas heart sank when he saw the rage in his face. 

Brenda noticed and nudged Thomas' shoulder, "this way." she said softly, heading down a hall. 

***

Brenda led them around turn and turn, down hall and hall. No one challenged them, hell, they didn't even see any guards along the way. Though, at one point, a beetle-blade scurried across the hall. Minho tried to hit and almost hit, which scared Thomas. But the raw anger in his face when Newt yelped and jumped back and looked to Minho- so strong, Thomas could've sworn Newt was going to shot back-- that. That terrified him. 

Eventually, though, they managed to get to the weapons. The room was unarmed and stocked fully. "That's it," Minho said, "no more doubt." 

Thomas knew exactly what he was talking about. "Someone's setting us up." 

Newt was already in the weapons' room. "Check this out," Newt said. 

Thomas was behind him in a second, following his finger. One section of the weapons was gone, but dust patters were in the shape of where the weapons had once been. Where they had been recently. Thomas was going to compliment Newt in some way, but Minho spoke up; "Why is that so important?" 

Startling Thomas, Newt immediately turned on Minho. "Can't you figure something out yourself for once you bloody shank!" he yelled, his cheeks burning with rage. 

Minho winced, looking more shocked and maybe even hurt at his friend's behavior than angry. "Newt," Thomas said, "what's wrong?" 

Newt turned on Thomas and Thomas was shocked that he flinched. "I'll tell you what's bloody wrong! Y'all have nothing to fear, no clicking clock- so you, mister tough-guy, have led us out here with no bloody plan like chickens to slaughter. And Minho can't take a step without askin' which bloody foot to use!" he was screaming by the end of his outburst. 

Anger flashed in Minho's eyes, "Look shuck-face, you're the one acting like a genius for pointing out weapons being taken from the weapon room. Back off." 

Thomas watched Newt's expression go from rageful to something else. Broken. Teary. Vulnerable. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice shaking, then he just walked out of the weapons' room. 

"What was that?" Minho asked. 

Thomas didn't answer. He didn't want to say it. He didn't want to say out loud that Newt's mind was breaking, being taken over by the Flare. As long as he didn't say it, as long as the words didn't manifest into real life, then they couldn't hurt them, right?

"You were missing the point," Thomas said, deciding to address that instead of Minho's question. 

"Which was?" 

"A dozen or two Launchers, gone. All at once." 

It clicked in Minho's eyes, but Brenda finished it; "they only come here when they need to replace weapons. Why would they all need to come here? And where are their weapons?"

 

 

They stood around, bouncing around so many suggestions and explanations. 

Somehow, they always asked Thomas' opinion and it was killing him. He wanted to go see Newt, make sure he was okay. Thomas had the clearest image of Newt sitting in the hall, crying to himself. Thomas' heart broke. 

Though, Newt found his way back. For some reason, that really upset Thomas. He had wanted to go find him, remind him he was loved. "Next time explain yourself instead of getting all snippy," Minho began, "we decided Cranks most likely stormed here. So glad you're back, we need a Crank to sniff out the other Cranks."

Thomas had never wanted to punch Minho so bad before. Thomas didn't even look to see if the remark offended Newt, Thomas was plenty offended himself. "You never know when to stop talkin', always gotta have the last bloody word." Newt growled. 

"Shut your shuck face," Minho replied. 

Newt slowly made his way to Minho. The two stood in a brief silence, sizing each other up, then as quick as a striking snake, Newt punched Minho across the face. Minho stumbled into the weapons' rack behind him, and then was on Newt in a second. Thomas sprinted over and grabbed Minho roughly by the neck of his shirt and pulled, not caring if it hurt, "Get the hell off him, Minho!" Thomas yelled, surprised by the own anger in his voice. 

Brenda and Thomas managed to remove Minho, then Thomas left Minho and rushed for Newt, helping him to his feet. "Are you okay?" 

Newt pulled away from Thomas and shook his head, "I'm sorry, it's my fault, everything's tickin' me off. You guys plan, I..." he shook his head, his voice trailing as he walked back into the hall. 

Thomas gave Brenda and Minho instructions to get more weapons, then Thomas followed Newt into the hallway. Newt was just sitting on the ground. Thomas joined him. Thomas tried to start a conversation, but barely got a thing. Thomas had to fight a wave of tears away; he had never seen Newt like this. Hopeless, quiet. Thomas could see the old Newt, smiling and having plenty to say. Thomas had to fight the urge to tell himself this wasn't Newt anymore. 

Thomas thought about all their late-night conversations under the stars of the Glade; smiles and whispers. The blow that came with the realization that he'd never see that Newt again, and that they'd never be that way again was the last straw. Three tears in total- slid right down his cheeks and hit the floor with a gentle 'plip'. Thomas wiped his eyes quickly, thinking maybe Newt hadn't heard him. 

But Newt's hand rested on Thomas'. "I'm so sorry," he whispered. His voice cracked as he continued, "I'm sorry I'm not immune. And I'm sorry you fell in love with me, because now I'm going to-" 

"Don't," Thomas interrupted, squeezing Newt's hand like a lifeline. "Please Newt, just don't." he whispered, shoulders trembling. 

Thomas pulled Newt into his arms and held him. "You're gonna try. You're never going to apologize for what WICKED put us through again. You're never going to apologize for their sick games," Thomas looked into Newt's eyes. Still beautiful, thank God, they were still beautiful. "And don't you ever apologize for being so damn perfect that I fell completely head over heels for you. Never apologize for being you, Newt, never again. Because you are the reason I know what happiness is and the reason I'm here." 

Newt nodded a little, his eyes filling. Thomas just hugged him against him. He savored it, the feel of Newt's warmth- just his presence. Thomas had never exactly taken Newt for granted, but it still felt surreal he was being taken away. He'd do all he could to keep Newt with him and well, and whatever it took to have more moments with him. More bliss, more euphoria, more racing hearts- Thomas had gotten so used to them, how would he ever do without?

"I need to get something," Newt whispered, pushing away. "I won't be long, I promise." he said, stealing a kiss before rushing off. 

Thomas watched him go, sitting in that spot on the floor. Even when Newt had disappeared, he just stared at where he had vanished. For the first time ever, Thomas was numb. 

***

Everyone gathered what they needed, but Thomas stood, leaning against the wall and waiting for Newt. 

He was no longer numb, now filled to the brim with worry. Finally, like a freaking customized miracle from God, Newt reappeared around the corner. Thomas smiled; despite it all, despite their situation and Newt's condition, seeing Newt brought a smile to his face. 

Newt looked over Thomas' shoulder to make sure no one was looking, "Here, Tommy." Newt said, handing him a small, sealed envelope. 

"Put it in your pocket," Newt said, ignoring Thomas' questions. 

Thomas sighed and put it in his pockets, looking Newt in the eyes. Newt was speaking again before he could. "You better swear to me you won't read that bloody thing until the time is right." 

And that was all Newt would offer. 

Worry and anxiety fought a war in his chest and the pit of his stomach. Somehow, Thomas knew this wasn't good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgive the single updates, trust me, I hate those. But tomorrow I should be back to several~


	10. Chapter Sixteen/Seventeen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO SORRY FOR NOT UPDATING YESTERDAY. We spent six hours getting our truck out of a ditch, and then I had to babysit; which I ended up spending the night because they're family friends and were out like alll night XD 
> 
> Anyway, so sorry for the wait, but here's the next chapter! 
> 
> ***I DO NOT own Death Cure or any of the characters!***

The curiosity about this note was only beat by the sadness about the whole situation. 

His love, his life, his future- his everything, was going to die unless he found a way, found a way to reverse this. Fix him. But it was becoming increasingly hard to think about a way to do that, especially with Newt's acceptance of the whole thing. Not to mention, they were currently escaping WICKED, the only place that might have anything that could help Newt. 

But for now, he had to push that all away. Just shove it down and focus at the task at hand; getting Newt and his friends out of here and to somewhere safe. He'd find something, anything to save Newt when they were out of this place. Thomas walked to Newt and entwined their fingers tightly. They looked at each other; no words were spoken but there was something. Pain, love, hope, despair--somehow, they were all working together between their eyes. Thomas took it all in, the good with the bad. Because this was Newt, and he'd take whatever came with him. "Let's go." 

***

They spent an entire hour searching, but couldn't find the rest of their friends anywhere. In fact, no one was. They searched the cafeteria, labs, dorms, everywhere- not a person or Crank in sight. Something weird was definitely going on. Thomas hated to admit it, but he had to move on. They just couldn't risk searching all over for them now, not when he had Newt to protect. "Come on," he said, taking one last look around, hoping that he'd see them somewhere suddenly. "Let's get to the hangar." 

***

They had been walking through a dark hallway when Minho suddenly stopped. Thomas and the others followed suit, though Thomas didn't hear anything right away. Everyone was completely silent, and then Thomas heard it. A low moan. 

Everyone exchanged worried glances, the dim, red, emergency lights poorly illuminating their faces. Newt set down the box of ammo and Minho quietly shrugged off his two extra Launchers. Slowly, the four of them- with Minho in the lead- began creeping forward. The moan was coming from another room, the pathetic excuse for a light doing nothing to reveal the inside of it. 

They quickly made it to the doorway in the room. Thomas strained his eyes to make sense of what he was seeing; the floor seemed to be cover in barely-moving mounds. It took him a moment, but he finally saw it. "They're guards!"

Once he realized, everything made more sense. Muffled gasps filled the room; the guards were tied up and gagged, all of them filling the entire room. "So this is where they all are," Minho said quietly. 

"We need to question them and find out what happened," Brenda said, her eyes just as stuck to the scene as Thomas'. 

Thomas grabbed her before he had time to think. "No." he blurted. 

"Why not? They could tell us everything!" she said, yanking her arm away from him, but she waited to see what he had to say. 

"It could be a trap. Or whoever did this to them could come back any second," he said, "we just need to focus and get out of here."

"Yeah," Minho chimed in, "this isn't up for debate."

Brenda glanced at Newt, who just took Thomas' hand and nodded. God, Thomas wished he would say something. He'd been so quiet lately. "Fine," Brenda sighed, "just thought we could get some information." She paused, then pointed. "Hangar's that way."

***

They trekked through a couple more hallways until reaching a set of double doors. Without being told, Minho and Newt took up position on either side of the doors. Thomas couldn't help but notice how gorgeous Newt was, the dim, red light hitting his eyes at just the right angle and lighting them. His gaze flicked to Thomas and Thomas looked away quickly, embarrassed. He couldn't believe they just did that; that was so middle-school. 

Brenda was at the door, holding the handle and waiting. Thomas steeled himself, pointing his Launcher, his finger hovering over the trigger, ready to pull it. "Open it," he said after a moment. 

The hangar was so huge it gave Thomas a brief headache. There were a couple Bergs inside, sitting like giant, squat frogs of burnt metal and machinery. 

Nothing happened so they started inside. All of them had their Launchers raised, spread out, sweeping their weapons from side to side as they cautiously walked on. "Hey!" Minho suddenly shouted, making Thomas' muscles tense. "Someone's here." 

Minho had walked over to some large crates, pointing his Launcher. Thomas was the first at Minho's side, and no one was surprised to see a man lying on the ground. He groaned, rubbing his head. The way his body seemed to disobey his wishes to sit up, Thomas guessed he had been hit pretty hard. "Easy now, nice and slow." Minho warned. 

The man let his hands fall from his face and Brenda let out a small cry of delight, dropping her weapon and rushing to him, wrapping her arms around the man. Around Jorge. They all dropped their weapons, Thomas letting out an audible breath of relief. Brenda was searching him all over for injuries, attacking him with question after question. "Calm down, hermana," Jorge mumbled, "my heads feel like it's been stomped on by dancin' Cranks, just gimme a minute." 

Everyone quieted down. Thomas had questions of his own, but he knew what it felt like to be knocked in the head. Jorge took a moment, squeezing his eyes shut and opening them again, rubbing his head all the while. "I don't know how they did it, but they took over the compound. Stole a Berg and flew out of here with another pilot. I tried to talk them, ask them what in the hell they were doing. And now my head's paying for it." 

"Who?" Brenda asked, speaking the word everyone was wondering. "Who left?" 

Jorge looked up at Thomas. "Teresa chick, and all your other little friends. All of them except you, muchachos." 

 

 

Thomas couldn't believe it, staggering. He heard a Launcher hit the ground heavily and felt Newt's hands on him, holding him up. Thomas grabbed one of Newt's arm, steadying himself. He couldn't believe it. Here they were, searching for their friends, their family- they were Gladers, all of them, and then they left them. Did they even look? Did they even consider looking? It almost seemed like a joke that Thomas had ever once trusted Teresa. 

Eventually, Thomas found himself. They had Jorge explain the whole thing in detail, and it just didn't make any sense. Brenda didn't know anything, neither did Jorge. But it still didn't sit right; Teresa had been WICKED's number-one fan lately. 

"We just need to go." Newt commented quietly, nodding to one of the Bergs. "No bloody reason to ponder it all shuck day. Our 'friends' left us. Now we gotta fly the coop, too." 

Newt was right. God, how Thomas hated to admit it, but he was right. Jorge was to his feet, Newt had picked up his Launcher and they were just about to head to the Berg when another alarm started. Whining and squealing. 

Then, at least a dozen black-clad guards pouring through the opening, weapons raised. And then they were firing.


	11. Chapter Eighteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's another one before I have to start chores. Ugh, can I just say that THIS feels so right? Squeezing in as many chapters, and getting in more than one a day and earlier than right before I go to bed? I love it. It makes me feel better. I always feel so... off when I can't update or can only update once. Unfortunately, only one chapter, but there will be more~ 
> 
> ***I DO NOT own Death Cure or any of the characters!***

Thomas wasn't sure who it was, but one of his friends saved his life- yanking him hard by the back of the shirt and behind the crates. 

Crackling, cracks, and breaking glass filled the air around Thomas, attacking his senses. "Who let them loose?" Minho yelled. 

"Hardly think it bloody matters right now!" Newt yelled. 

With every bullet that hit the crates or the wall behind, the group pressed themselves closer together. Thomas eventually lifted his arm so Newt could get closer; he fit under it perfectly and Thomas' racing heart slowed just a bit- he felt he was protecting Newt better this way, and that made him relaxed. "We need to start shooting back!" Jorge yelled, sounding a bit panicked. 

"I guess you're with us, then?" Thomas asked, surprised he was asking such a question at this moment. 

Jorge glanced at Brenda. "If she's with you, I'm with you. And just in case you didn't notice, they're trying to kill me too!" 

Thomas was relieved, but he knew they needed to act. They were getting closer and closer, and if they didn't do something soon, there'd be no way they could take advantage over all these guards. "I'll fire right, Newt fire left, Thomas and Brenda fire over the box, Jorge get to your shuck Berg. Shoot anything that moves and wears black. Go!" Minho ordered quickly. 

Everyone was in their positions in half a second. Sadly, Thomas had to let Newt scoot away from him which broke his heart, but he could hold him later. "Now!" Minho shouted. 

There was not a moment of hesitation as they began shooting. Their onslaught was strong; they mostly hit the legs and chests, dropping guard after guard. They had the guards running for now, but they knew it wouldn't last. They needed to get Jorge to his Berg. "Okay," Minho shouted as they were reloading, "Newt and I will cover while Thomas, Jorge and Brenda run to the Berg. 

Once everyone agreed, they were going. Thomas frowned as he watched Minho and Newt run out into open air, firing madly. Brenda and Thomas took up the right and left side of Jorge, protecting him as they sprinted towards the Berg. They just ran, not turning around or thinking. They had almost made it when a grenade hit Brenda's back, electricity exploding over her back. She screamed and fell face-first, writhing on the ground. 

Thomas skidded to a stop, calling out to her. He dropped to the ground to avoid being shot. He tried to get close to her, but the angry tendrils of the electricity kept him at bay. Thankfully, Newt and Minho noticed and were heading his way, shooting at the guards. Jorge had disappeared into the Berg, but was out in a second, firing a different kind of Launcher- one that made the guards catch fire when the grenades hit them. 

Minho ran up and hooked an arm under Brenda. Thomas gasped when Minho winced and jagged streaks of energy zapped up his arms, but he held it and he dragged her. Thomas and Newt rushed to help, hurrying towards the Berg while Jorge covered them from there. Somehow, they managed to get to the hatch. Minho and Jorge dragged her up while Thomas and Newt stood side-by-side, shooting madly. 

Eventually, Newt was out of ammunition, and Thomas was too just seconds after. Thomas grabbed the back of Newt's shirt, "Forget reloading, go!" he shouted, pushing Newt up the ramp. 

Newt stumbled slightly, but scrambled up the ramp. Thomas was right behind him. Thomas' head had just crossed the threshold when something cracked into his back, sending him onto his knees, then flat on his face. Thomas was sure he was screaming, but couldn't tell- his entire body enveloped in pain. Things were going dark, something warm was oozing from his nose, his body moved involuntarily, his mind was emptying. 

The only thing he was aware of was Newt crying his name before his senses winked out.


	12. Chapter Nineteen/Twenty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE FORGIVE ME, DARLINGS. We had a power outage from Christmas Eve 'till now... That really sucked! Needless to say, my Christmas could've been better, lol... But how was everyone elses'??? 
> 
> ***I DO NOT own Death Cure or any of the characters!***

All he could see was blinding light. 

Pure energy webbing and cracking across his wide eyes, blinding him completely. He wanted to close his eyes, scream, stop his body from shaking madly- but he had no control over anything. All he was absolutely certain of was the pain, hitting him in merciless, constant waves and threatening to steal his conscious, but not quite stealing it away. A cruel game. 

The only thing that managed to break through the pain was the awareness of a deep thrumming. Somehow he knew it was the Berg's engine, and that they were taking off. But then the dread of the fact that they were leaving him. First all the others, now his closest friends. Newt. The pain was deep that when a tear slid down, he couldn't tell if it was from the electricity or his heartache. His vision was gradually getting better, though. And the first thing he could see was a guard standing over him with his weapon pointed at his face. 

Thomas barely had time to feel defeated before another figure crashed into the guard. Thomas felt a sudden wave of relief, accompanied by a numbness. Thomas was thankful that the worst was over, but he wasn't quite content yet. He had to go; he rolled and propped himself up on his elbows. Thomas somehow managed to look over his shoulder; Newt was there, beating the living shit out of the guard, Minho rushing to his side.

But Thomas needed to focus. He fought the urge to crawl towards Newt and painfully began making his way towards the Berg. He could see Jorge from the corner of his eye, shooting and protecting. Newt and Minho were on his feet, shooting as well. Thomas wanted to yell to Newt, get him away from the firefight, but all that came out was a gurgling moan. Realizing he just had to get away from the carnage to get Newt away from it, he focused on crawling. 

He used every ounce of his strength, but it was draining. "Just grab his butt and haul him in!" Jorge shouted from behind him.

Jorge went running past him. Something made a noise and the ramp was beginning to lift. Out of nowhere, Newt and Minho's hands gripped his shirt and dragged him inside. Once dropped safely inside, he felt Newt's lips against his ear, "Tommy, you're okay. I'm here, we made it." 

Newt was right. 

Thomas' heart was soaring. They made it. They were escaping WICKED; they were in the Berg. They were together. Thomas let out a weak grunt, trying to share his excitement with Newt, tell him he loved him, whatever. Then he closed his eyes and passed out. 

 

 

Thomas awoke, staring at the ceiling of the Berg. 

Thomas looked around, his body covered in sting. But curled up on his chest was Newt. He and Newt were laying on an ugly couch, tucked in. Minho was on another couch, also tucked in tight. They all looked like kids. Newt and Minho were sleeping heavily, damn they deserved it. Somehow Thomas had the creeping suspicion that Brenda did it. Just as he had the thought, Brenda appeared. "Awake?" 

"I am," Thomas whispered with somewhat of an edge, trying to get her to keep her voice down. The look in her eyes suggested that she got the hint. "We've been sleeping for ten hours."

Thomas' eyes widened, "what!? For real? We've been asleep for that long?!" 

To Thomas' surprise, she was being serious. They chatted for awhile; Thomas discovered that the rest of the world wasn't like the Scorch which made him worried- he didn't know what to expect, he found out that they'd need jobs, Jorge had tracked the others to a city called Denver, much to his dismay he found out they wouldn't let Cranks in- but no one brought up Newt just yet. 

Eventually, Newt stirred and Brenda disappeared. Newt looked up at him and offered him a sleepy smile. Thomas returned it and pushed his hair behind his ears. "Morning sleepy." 

Newt nodded, letting out a little yawn. "Geez, how long have we been out?" 

"Ten hours," Thomas said, enjoying the look of surprise on Newt's tired face. "Can I sleep a little longer?" Newt asked. 

Thomas smirked, "of course. We're on our way to Denver, where the others are. You can sleep awhile longer, it doesn't seem like we're too close yet." 

Newt nodded, already half asleep. He was asleep within minutes. And Thomas laid awake, admiring him. Thomas' heart constricted with a morbid thought; how much longer did they have like this? Thomas pushed it away. They had a lifetime. Because Thomas would do whatever it took to keep Newt away from that fate. Whatever. It. Took. There had to be a way, surely the world wouldn't snatch the dearest thing to Thomas' heart. Surely it couldn't be that cruel. 

Thomas pushed it away. He hated this and he hated having to think about it. Chuck's death made him hate WICKED, but Newt's condition- and the way they pitted Newt against the world just to steal it all away- that made Thomas want WICKED to fall; go down in miserable pain and bloodshed. Once again, he pushed it away. He needed to. He had Newt here, on his chest, sleeping. He was fine, and they were together as they should be. Despite the pain and the worry, somehow, a smile found Thomas' face. And as he looked down at Newt's sleeping face, he felt invincible. 

They were invincible.


	13. Chapter Twenty-One/Twenty-Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well NOW I'm back... XD My friend had a birthday party and I ended up staying the night, then my other friend had a New Year's Eve party and I went to that- and then spent the night again. I just got home. Break is almost over, though, so there shouldn't be anymore time to squeeze any more sleepovers or parties in! So I am back my dears :) Enough talk, let's get to the Newtmas. 
> 
> ***I DO NOT own Death Cure or any of the characters!***
> 
> WARNING: There's a somewhat passionate moment in here, followed by implied smut!!!!

Brenda eventually returned, just as Thomas was drifting off. 

"So there's something even more important than just finding your friends in Denver," she said, a grin on her face. Luckily this time, she kept her voice down. She continued before Thomas could voice his curiosity; "What's the biggest issue with WICKED now? What do we have to worry about?" 

"Them... finding us?" Thomas offered, not sure what she was looking for. 

Brenda nodded. "Exactly. So if Jorge's turned off the tracking ability on the Berg; how would they do that?" 

"They can track us," he said, tapping his head, suggesting the chip that WICKED has in them. 

Brenda nodded. "I know a guy, name's Hans. He's a doctor and he used to work for WICKED. He can remove the chip." she said. 

Thomas' heart seemed to take fire. He had been sort of avoiding the fact that WICKED could very well control them if they were close enough; and track them. But this was something, this was definitely something. 

After the whole discussion, they decided to see what Newt and Minho thought about it all when they woke up. Brenda slipped off and left Thomas in the silence with nothing but the soft sounds of Newt's sleep and his thoughts. And there was only one his mind; Newt. He needed his chip removed, but Brenda had said they were tight on security in these places. And Newt was... 

Thomas shook his head and settled in for some sleep. Later. They'd all discuss this later. 

***

Minho called their meeting a Gathering for old time's sake. Thomas' heart twisted with such pleasant emotion as he thought about those times; sure, they'd been pretty crappy. But Newt was okay then- hell, he was a leader then. And he stood up for Thomas. And every time their eyes met in those damn meeting, a chemical reaction shook the room if not the planet.

And just like old times, Thomas had a headache by the end of it. 

It took a solid hour of an arguing to come to the unanimous decision to go to Denver. The plan was to land the Berg nearby. Newt would have to stay back until they figured something out, which Thomas didn't like, but knew he needed to accept. But they weren't there yet so he didn't have to accept it just yet. Thomas entwined his fingers and pulled Newt away to the other room. He paused once they entered it, making sure no one followed, then locked the door. "How are you feeling?" he asked. 

Newt gave him a half smile. "I'm fine, Tommy." 

"Newt," Thomas pressed, a sudden, miserable feeling forming in his throat. "Please be honest with me." he managed to say past the lump there. 

Newt studied him before nodding a bit. "I am. Look, I'm scared. I know what's going to happen to me. But I'm also trying, I am. I try to think about you when I start getting mad and it usually works. I think... I think I can keep it at bay, just as long as you're here. And who knows? Maybe I can do that forever." he said, flashing a playful grin. 

There wasn't much reassuring there, but for some reason, Thomas felt a million times better. Maybe it was the grin. "I love you." Thomas said. 

Newt nodded and took a step forward, moving their lips close, "I love you, too." he said softly before kissing him. 

Thomas' body exploded into heat; his cheeks burning the hottest. Every little bump of Newt against him while they kissed detonated another explosion. They broke their kiss, breathing in each others' gasps. "Newt," Thomas murmured, losing his train of thought as Newt's hands slid under Thomas' shirt just slightly. 

Newt flicked those eyes up to Thomas', they were drowning in passion and Thomas could relate; getting drunk on that moment. Thomas cupped Newt's face in his hands, "we have time," he breathed against Newt's lips. 

Newt's hands hesitated as his body shuddered with Thomas' words, his eyes falling shut. "Thank god," he replied, their lips brushing as he spoke. 

Thomas grinned, his eyes had fallen shut at some point, too, but he could still imagine Newt; red face, closed eyes, desperate lips, thin frame- 

Before Thomas had a chance to drive himself mad, he literally swept Newt off his feet and carried him to one of the couches, laying Newt down on it. Newt wrapped his arms around Thomas' shoulders, trapping him in place. Not that Thomas was going anywhere. 

Thomas left a soft kiss on Newt's neck and made a trail to his jaw as he spoke. "I love you. I need you, Newt. Don't ever leave me." 

Newt's fingers found Thomas' hair and another wave of unbearable heat struck Thomas full force. "I'll stay, I can-- just so long as you stay." he said, his chest rising and falling hard which each word as if he had ran for years. 

Thomas smiled at him and kissed him again. Though the passion was enough to intoxicate him, he still had the complete clear thought of how grateful he was for Newt and this time; that they were still them, despite recent adjustments in their life. And as Thomas and Newt spent their time, Thomas thought maybe, just maybe, they could make it. 

 

 

Hours passed after their "time" before the group came together to talk again. 

Basically, all they did was talk about how they were going to remove Newt's chip. "Look," Newt said, and Thomas' heart broke because so suddenly, that happy look on his face, they calm look in his eyes, that relaxed calmness he had just hours ago was gone and replaced with such anger and despair. "I'm a Crank, it doesn't matter if I get this bloody chip removed. We know what's going to happen anyway." 

Thomas didn't mean to, but he squeezed Newt's hand hard. 

No one spoke and Newt looked around. "Well..." his eyes sharp and angry eyes found Thomas, "no one hurt themselves tryin' to convince me." he growled, the words stabbing into Thomas dead-on. 

Suddenly, Newt ripped his hand from Thomas and got up, storming into another room. Thomas frowned and watched him go, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. Thomas started to push himself up to get him, but Minho beat him up. "Let me. He seemed pretty mad at you that time." he said, and Thomas didn't stop him as he went after Newt. 

He let himself take him a breather. He fingered the note in his pocket, but then decided against it. Hope wasn't lost just yet. 

With that, Thomas pushed himself up and went after his lover.


	14. Chapter Twenty-Three/Twenty-Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally downloaded my music onto my laptop so I can play it aloud rather than having headphones connected to my iPod- finally!! I think it's put me in the writing mood XD 
> 
> ***I DO NOT own Death Cure or any of the characters!***

Thomas had never imagined the world outside of WICKED now, but now that they were face-to-face with it, he had about a million ideas running though his mind. 

Houses, porches, sunsets, Newt, a dog. Every time he thought about the best scenario, that was what he got. He didn't like what he got when he thought about the worst. Thomas and Newt stood hand-in-hand by the ramp. "Be safe." Thomas said as the other started off. 

Newt rolled his eyes with a smirk. "Oh yeah, sitting in a Berg- so dangerous." he said, that spark in his eyes, making Thomas think that maybe they should fly forever. Together. No towns, no other Gladers, no WICKED, no destination. Just the endless world to cross, hand-in-hand. 

But when Minho called his name, he knew it was too late for anything like that. 

Thomas kissed him deeply, "I hate leaving you," he whispered against Newt's lips. 

Newt shut his eyes. "I'll see you soon." he assured. 

Thomas nodded and started away, holding Newt's hand until his arm wasn't long enough anymore. Then he painfully turned his back on the Berg, carrying his precious cargo, and wanted nothing more than to go back. 

***

As if the thought of leaving Newt behind wasn't bad enough, the scanning to get in was terrible. Everyone was on edge as they tentatively awaited their turn. And it was all Thomas could do to keep a sigh of relief from escaping every time he and his friends made it through safely. 

And once Thomas was inside the city, all he wanted to do was run to Newt and show him what he was seeing. Minho had the same awestruck look on his face; so many people. So many. It seemed unreal, like it was a joke. Some trick WICKED pulled to make Thomas feel unprepared for the world. But he knew that wasn't true, it was too fascinating to be bad. 

Brenda and Jorge gave him looks that made him embarrassed, but he couldn't help his face. This place was something else. 

Suddenly, a man in a dark jacket stole Thomas' attention. He strode forward rather confidently. Thomas tried to convince himself the man wasn't walking up to him, but the closer he got, the less doubt Thomas had. Thomas didn't have a chance to join his friends before the man reached him. He looked unhappy as his eyes scanned them. "We know some kids escaped WICKED. Guessing by your Berg, you're amongst them. So I suggest you listen to the advice I am about to give you. You have nothing to be afraid of, we want to help you and protect you." With that, the man handed Thomas a piece of paper and turned, walking away just as quickly as he came to them. 

Minho looked to Thomas, "What does it say?" 

Thomas eagerly looked down and read aloud; "'You need to meet me immediately, I'm with a group called the Right Arm. Corner of Kenwood and Brookshire. 2792.'" 

But that wasn't what set Thomas nerves on end. The signature. He couldn't take his eyes off that damn signature. 

"It's from Gally." 

 

 

Thomas couldn't breathe, luckily Brenda and Jorge already knew about Gally. Thomas couldn't believe it. Thomas had lost it when Gally killed Chuck, he beat Gally nearly to death. But if this note was legit, then that meant Thomas hadn't killed Gally. Relief drowned him. 

Brenda expressed her doubt. Apparently, he spent a week in the infirmary recovering from a broken cheekbone, but the worst of it was his internal damage. He had lost it. He had been forced to kill Chuck and it broke his mind like glass. 

The things he heard about Gally's mental state took Thomas by complete surprise. But then he thought about when he flipped out on the night of the Grievers, when he hit Newt over the head with a board. So it was hard to say if it was all that surprising. Or maybe he was being controlled then. Thomas didn't know, and he did his best to annoy the questions as he walked through Denver- there was plenty to see. 

He was almost disappointed when he came to the apartment with the corresponding number from the note on the door. For some reason, Thomas thought of Newt then. And for whatever reason, it fueled him to knock on the door. 

And when it opened he wished Newt could've seen it. 

It was him. 

Gally. 

"Glad you make it," Gally said, "because the end of the world is upon us."


	15. Chapter Twenty-Five/Twenty-Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for the ridiculously long gaps in updates... :( I've actually developed a LIFE. (Crazy, I know). Like, instead of going home immediately after school, my friends and I do something. Which is quite abnormal XD So I apologize about the constant lateness and I hope I haven't lost any of you out there!!! 
> 
> ***I DO NOT own Death Cure or any of the characters!***

"Come in." 

Thomas still couldn't believe it. There was no way he could doubt it or challenge it; this was Gally. The one back in the Maze; the one Thomas hated. Gally. Once again, Thomas wished Newt was here--he needed to see this. 

Though, as he nodded and entered, Thomas couldn't help but feel sort of...awkward. Last time he had seen Gally, he had beaten him. Brutally- with a subconscious intent to kill. Seeing him now, Thomas had no idea what do or say. Everything felt forced. "Have a seat," Gally said. 

Thomas nodded. He had thousands of questions; What the Right Arm was doing here, how they knew Thomas and his friends would be here; what their intentions were. But he knew he had to take this slow and play by their rules, at least for now. So, he did as told and took a seat on the floor, his friends lining up at his sides, all eyes on Gally. 

They briefly- and painfully awkwardly- caught up. Thomas apologized, Minho didn't. Everyone knew everybody and somehow every topic Thomas tried to avoid managed to come up. But, seemingly finally, Minho said something that wasn't an insult or snide comment; "I wanna know how you knew we were coming." 

Gally beat around the bush for a moment or two, but finally said something of importance. He explained the Right Arm's goals; to take down WICKED and use the money for something actually helpful. He explained how they were close to reaching that goal, but were lacking something. Some information. And apparently there were some problems at the moment. One; the Flare was running rampant through the entire city and two; munnies were disappearing. Practically into thin air. 

The combination was bad. Munnies disappearing and the Flare oozing through the city. 

Thomas asked Gally about Teresa and the others and, to his surprise, Gally knew something. Apparently, Teresa had already been here with the others. Gave Gally some useful information. And for the first time in a long, long time; Thomas' heart lifted. She helped. She turned her back on WICKED and helped. Despite the fact that she had left them and betrayed them, something seemed to have changed. Maybe when she got her memories back, something came up that changed her mind. God, Thomas hoped so. 

Apparently she said she couldn't agree with them "starting the cycle over again" and that she hoped to find Thomas. The news was nice to hear, gave Thomas a bit of relief. Maybe he could get his best friend back. 

But then Gally said one more thing. 

"There's a bounty for a guy out here named Hans."

 

 

Brenda stood up. "We're leaving. Come on."

Thomas and the others got to their feet and now he knew he should've listened to Brenda; their first priority should've been finding Hans. He realized that now. He just hoped it wasn't too late. Thomas and Gally shared a goodbye, in which Thomas promised to come back. 

"Wait, Thomas." Gally said quietly. "Where's Newt? Did he...?" 

"No, he's not dead." Thomas said quickly, then glanced down. "But he's got..." 

"I wish they would've done it." Gally said, looking sincere. "Made a cure, I mean. Instead of doing these trials over and over; I wish they wouldn't have wasted so much time and money and people and just focused." 

Thomas' heart was breaking apart with every word. He nodded, "I do, too. I'll see you soon." Thomas said, turning and following the others before another word could be said on the matter. 

***

They didn't find Hans until the next day. 

Hans let them immediately, upon recognizing Brenda. They didn't even catch up, though. The conversation and focus went straight to Minho and Thomas. Minho, of course, ran his mouth and almost made Hans kick him out. But somehow Brenda managed to convince the angry, older man to go through with it. Thomas found his nerves on end- for some reason, Thomas had expected to come back the next day or later that night. But they were doing it here and now. 

Thomas found himself wishing Newt was there. A surgery in an apartment didn't sound all that flattering, but having Newt's hand in his would've definitely made it better. 

"Thomas, you okay?" Brenda asked, snapping him out of his thought. 

"I think I just need to-" Something sluiced down Thomas' spine before he could finish. The pain came and went so suddenly; and before Thomas knew it, he was doing things he couldn't control. He slipped out of his chair, screaming and kicking and spasming. Things were hurting, but as much as he tried, he couldn't stop it. Brenda and Minho were shouting, but as much as Thomas wanted to, he couldn't reply. 

The more he tried to reply, the more he panicked, finding he couldn't even do that. What was worse; he was completely aware of what was going on. Suddenly, the jerking stopped. And he lay still. Then, he was getting to his feet, calmly- smoothly, even. 

"Are you okay, man?" Minho asked. 

Thomas tried to speak, but still couldn't. And when he did speak, it definitely wasn't by choice. 

"I can't... let you... do... this."


	16. Chapter Twenty-Seven/Twenty-Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had an awesome time at my knowledge bowl meet today :3333333333333 Hope everyone else had a good day, too!! 
> 
> ***I DO NOT own Death Cure or any of the characters!***

Thomas couldn't do a thing. 

Absolutely nothing was in his control, but his mind was still crystal-clear, forcing him to sit back and watch himself do everything he didn't want to do. "They've got you, Thomas, fight it!" Brenda yelled. 

Despite everything, Thomas felt a rush of relief that Brenda knew this wasn't his doing. Thomas watched helplessly as he pushed Brenda, sending her tumbling to the ground. Jorge moved to protect her, but all that accomplished was Jorge getting punched. Thomas' entire body ached with the effort he was putting forward to fight this, but he felt completely and utterly powerless. Thomas tried to fight it, tried to yell to them to sedate him, but with no luck. 

Then he was moving again--in uneasy, lurching steps he started to the kitchen. Once inside, his fingers clumsily found a knife and gripped it tight. Minho ran in after him, yelling at him, trying to get him to fight it. And God Thomas wanted to, but before he knew it, Hans was in there and Thomas was starting towards him. Of course, Hans was the main target. 

Hans looked completely calm, he expected this to happen. Thomas did all he could to fight it as he moved towards Hans, knife raised. Thankfully, someone crashed into his back. When Thomas hit the ground, he twisted to see Minho pinning him. "Nuh-uh, you're not killing anybody and I'm not letting you go until they let your mind go!" 

Thomas wished so badly he could've smiled. 

Though, Thomas managed to escape. And he was immediately on Hans, slashing his arm, trying to finish the job. Strong hands grabbed him, his hair, his clothes and yanked. Thomas was utterly relieved when Minho and Jorge had gained control. Finally, they managed to get the knife away from him and kick it across the kitchen floor. It took some doing, but Minho and Jorge managed to grab Thomas and, following Hans directions, drag him to the back room. 

They threw him on an operating bed, and despite his absolute, mad defiance, they managed to get the needle in his leg. Slowly, the sedation spread warmly through his body. Darkness began to gradually take him, and WICKED's control was gone. Before passing out, he whispered something to his friends; 

"I hate those shucks." 

 

 

When Thomas awoke, he was groggy and had one hell of a headache. 

Minho was in a chair nearby, his head lolling in his light sleep. "Minho," Thomas whispered, "hey Minho, wake up."

"Huh?" Minho asked, opening his eyes slowly and coughing. "What's going on?" 

"Are we fixed?"

Minho nodded. "Yep. Man, you wigged out big time. You remember any of that?" 

Guilt twisted in Thomas' stomach as all the memories returned. The only thing he was thankful for was that Newt wasn't there. If he had hurt Newt, he wouldn't be able to forgive himself. "Yeah. I remember. I'm sorry." he said. 

Minho accepted it, thankfully. Jorge, Brenda and Hans joined them soon after and Thomas definitely had apologies for them, too. Hans didn't say much about it, just checked up on Thomas' head, made sure everything was okay. Which, according to him, everything was. Hans apologized for not being able to stay with them, telling them of how his wife was his first concern. Thomas understood; and his heart twisted, yearning for Newt. 

Their new plan was to find their friends, then go back to Gally and see how they could help. Thomas wished more than anything that he could've just gone back to Newt or something, but he knew he'd have to wait... It was crushing him. 

But they had a plan. And they needed to stick to it. 

'I'll see you soon,' Thomas thought, casting the thought out to Newt as if it would work in any way, shape or form; more of a joke than anything.

With a heavy heart and Newt's face and voice and skin and touch haunting his mind, Thomas got started.


	17. AUTHOR'S NOTE!!!

Sorry for such slow replies, babies. I had a huge presentation and Monday I have knowledge bowl, then Tuesday I have an appointment at the Army Office to take the practice ASVAB test, then knowledge bowl again on Wednesday, and then I should be good for the week!!!! I plan on piling up some updates tomorrow and the next day, but today we're moving a horse (four hour trip, yay, fun.) So just bear with me my lovely darlings :)


	18. Chapter Twenty-Nine/Thirty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry guys XD I know I said I'd be delayed with the next update, but this delay was much longer than anticipated XD I just basically ended up taking a break from everything; writing, reading, TV shows; all that good stuff. I really needed to get caught up in school and that's where my time has been XD But I think I'm good now and I'm back :)   
> So let's finish this and then get started on the Death Cure where our precious baby IS immune! 
> 
> ***I DO NOT own Death Cure or any of the characters***

They decided to get something to eat first. 

Hans and his wife recommended a coffee shop nearby. Thomas had never been anywhere like this. 

It was so organized. Soothing music wafted through the air, a warm atmosphere swelled through the small place. People simply lined up orderly at a counter, told them what they wanted, waited, then got their food or drink and sat down at a little table. Once again, Thomas found himself wishing Newt could see this. 

They were faults in the perfection, though. Thomas slowly noticed them one at a time. An elderly woman lifting her protective, surgical mask to sip on her drink. A red-clad guard standing dauntingly by the door, randomly testing people for the Flare. But there was in particular that kept grabbing his attention.

Near the back windows of the shop, there was a sickly thin man, just staring absently at a spot on the wall. He hadn't touched his coffee since Thomas and his friends had arrived and now steam no longer danced from it. 

Jorge went to go get food and drinks as Brenda, Thomas and Minho sat down at a somewhat secluded table. And still, Thomas couldn't take his eyes off that guy. His eyes seemed to be floating and the look on his face was so blank it was disturbing. But somehow there was a hint of pleasure there. Thomas wasn't going to ask, but he couldn't help it now. He nudged Brenda and pointed him out curiously. Brenda followed Thomas' gaze and nodded a bit. She leaned over and whispered; "that guy is probably on the Bliss. He'll be jailed if he's caught, try not to pay too much attention to him." 

Thomas looked away from the man, but was still creeped out. He hoped the man would leave soon. 

Jorge came back with sandwiches and steaming cups of coffee and they all ate and drank in silence. Every bite and drink was so good and Thomas wished he could've shared it with Newt. God, he missed him. 

Thomas really did want to get going, they all knew the urgency of their situation, but it was nice to have a moment of peace.

The break was just what they needed; the atmosphere and warm food worked magic on Thomas; he felt ready for anything. And was more eager than ever to get this done and go see Newt. They were all getting up to leave when Thomas noticed the man pulling something out of his pocket. He couldn't see it, but whatever it was, the man pressed it to the crook of his elbow. His peace looked only briefly disturbed as he gave a long blink. He leaned back, his head resting against the window, a whole new daze in his eyes. 

The Red-Shirt stared towards the man on the bench, a small woman following him and whispering into his ear nervously. "Thomas?" Brenda asked. 

Thomas put a finger to his lips and Brenda turned to see what was going on. Red Shirt kicked the man's foot, who flinched and looked up. They started talking, but Thomas couldn't hear. The man now looked scared. "We need to get out of here. Now." Brenda said, getting to her feet. 

"Why?" Thomas asked. 

"Just come on!" she snapped. 

She didn't wait to see if he followed, she just stood and walked briskly out the door. Thomas finally decided she was right and got to his feet. He had just risen when the Red Shirt pulled a gun and pointed it at the man, moving to test him. But the man swatted the tester away and tackled Red Shirt. The gun skittered across the floor, Thomas' blood running cold as the two of them slammed into the table before crashing onto the ground. 

Then Red Shirt was yelling; "We've got an infected! Everyone evacuate the building!" 

Thomas couldn't do a thing before the whole place crashed into chaos; people screaming and running for the exit. 

 

 

Thomas wished he had left with Brenda when she said to. Or at least sprinted to the exit with everyone else. Instead, Thomas was stuck in stunned silence at their little table, watching the two men fighting on the floor; struggling and punching and kicking, trying to gain any sort of advantage over each other. Someone pounded on the window, and Thomas turned to see Brenda, Minho and Jorge. Brenda was motioning frantically for him to get out, but he just couldn't. He wanted to see what was happening. 

Red Shirt had finally gotten the advantage, pinning the man to the ground. "It's over!" he yelled, "they're already on their way!" 

The man burst into sobs, no longer struggling. It was then when Thomas realized the only people in the building were him and the two men. The silence was eerie and only disturbed by the man's sobs. Red Shirt looked to Thomas. "What the hell are you doing here, kid!? Got a death wish or something?!" Thomas couldn't find the courage to answer so the man continued. "Whatever; if you're gonna stick around, make yourself useful and get me the gun!" 

Thomas was so stunned it was hard to understand. He'd seen violence before, but this was dizzying. "I'm... I'm immune," he stammered as he fetched the gun and brought it to Red Shirt. 

Red Shirt got to his feet, pointing the gun at the man. "It's getting worse and worse. You can tell when someone's drugged out on the Bliss." 

"So it was the Bliss..." Thomas said more to himself than anyone else. 

"You knew? And you didn't say anything?" Red Shirt snapped, suddenly turning on him. 

Thomas started to panic. "I'm sorry, I didn't really know what was going on." 

"You didn't know?! Where are you from?" he snapped, enraged. 

Thomas felt like he was going to throw up and briefly considered making a run for it, but the gun in Red Shirt's hand squashed the idea. "I-I'm nobody, I- I'm not from here, I'm sorry." 

"Sit down," Red Shirt demanded, flicking his gun towards the nearest chair. 

Thomas frowned, getting frantic. "What? Wait! I'm immune, I swear I-" 

"I said sit your butt down!" he hollered. 

Thomas sat down, terrified. He glanced towards the door and found some relief as he saw Minho standing there, Brenda and Jorge right behind. Thomas shook his head, telling them to stay out of it. He didn't want them getting hurt. And if things went South for Thomas, someone had to get back to Newt. 

"If you're really a Munie," Red Shirt said, "then I guess you wouldn't mind proving it." 

"Not at all," Thomas said, a wave of relief washing over him. Maybe he'd see he was telling the truth and let him go. 

Red Shirt walked over and put the device up to Thomas' face, "Look into it, eyes open. It'll only take a couple seconds." 

Thomas did as told, just wanting to get out of this mess. After the device did its thing, Red Shirt took it away and looked over the readings on the little screen. "Well I'll be damned. You are a Munie. Care to tell me how you ended up in Denver and don't know anything about the Bliss?" 

"I work for WICKED," He blurted out. 

Red Shirt didn't buy it and ordered him to stay right there or he'd shoot. Four people rushed in, covered from head to toe in green plastic suits. Thomas remembered seeing them when he was rescued from the Scorch to get his infected bullet wound cleaned. A pang of pain hit his chest when he remembered the way Newt jumped on him and clung to him when he was returned to the Gladers. 

"You caught two of 'em?" one of the green-clad people asked. 

"Nah, got a Munie who wanted to stick around and watch the show." Red Shirt replied, casting a dirty glance Thomas' way. 

The interest in Thomas died out quickly in the protected workers as they moved to the man on the ground. They pulled out an odd blue object and asked the man to straighten his legs and try to relax. Thomas searched his mind for an explanation for the odd-muzzled, blue object in the person's hands, but came up blank. 

Red Shirt had no compassion for the poor man. He slammed the barrel of his gun against the man's head and ordered him to straighten his legs. Suddenly, Thomas hated Red Shirt. The man whimpered and did as told. The person with the odd blue object moved so he was behind the infected man's head and rested the nozzle on the crown of the man's skull, nestling it into his hair. 

She warned him not to move, then pressed the button. An odd, gel-like substance seeped out. It was blue and viscous, but it moved quickly. It spread over the man's head, then his shoulders and chest and kept on going until it had encased the man in the stuff. Within seconds, it hardened, freezing into a hard shell that held the man in place. 

Thomas was shocked, but through it, he noticed Red Shirt was looking at him. Thomas met the guard's glance and wished he hadn't; a sick smile was on his face, his eyes seeping with disgusting glee. "Hope you enjoyed the show. Now you're coming with me."


	19. AUTHOR'S NOTE.

I HAVE DONE IT AGAIN AND I AM SORRY. Things got out of control again. But now things are calm; my laptop is fine now, my internet is fine, it's nice weather now so no random internet outages, and right now, I am spring break and have a good, calm right now. I will use this time. It's almost midnight where I am now, but I was thinking about how nice things are right now and promised myself I am going to finish all the stories I left unfinished (I have a Wattpad account as well). I am going to finish this one, then do the next one where Newt is immune, then will take requests. I am going to finish the ones on my Wattpad account (which I already updated not long ago. I was going to do this one, but it got late and I got exhausted, so this'll hafta wait), and everything's going to be good, because you guys deserve it!!!! I love you all, and thanks for all those who stay with me, even with my frequent disappearances. I love you so much <3


	20. Chapter Thirty-One/Thirty-Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just got back from an awesome trip with my cousin :) Now that I'm back, we can finish this, and continue on to the last part!! Enjoy! 
> 
> ***I do NOT own The Death Cure or any of the characters!***

Thomas thought he was going to be sick. 

The awful plummeting of his heart in his stomach was enough to make him think so. Red Shirt had a bad look in his eyes. Thomas wished he had just left when he had the chance. Red Shirt's eyes found their way back to the man who was now completely enveloped in the blue substance. "Let's get him out of here," the woman who had trapped him in his plastic jail said. 

As they begun carrying the infected man out, Thomas' attention went back to Red Shirt. He had said he was going with him. Where? And why? If Red Shirt hadn't had a gun, Thomas would've bolted. Movement near the main door caught Thomas' attention; it was Minho, attempting to step in. "You stay right there!" Red Shirt shouted, pointing the gun at Minho. 

"We're with him," Minho said, nodding to Thomas, "and we need to go." 

"He's not going anywhere," Red Shirt said, then something clicked visibly on his face. "Wait. Are you guys Munies, too?" 

While Thomas was panicking, Minho was sprinting. He didn't miss a beat, just bolted. God, Thomas wished he could do the same. Red Shirt briefly pursued him, but him and the others had made it across the street and Red Shirt gave up. "You're lucky," Red Shirt growled, "if Munies weren't so valuable, I'd kill you right now." 

Thomas couldn't help but be thankful Newt wasn't in this situation. He wouldn't be as "lucky". Though, Thomas also couldn't help being unbearably frustrated with the whole situation. After everything- with Newt waiting for him- this was the situation he was stuck in. 

"Come on." Red Shirt demanded, motioning his gun towards the door. "And if you haven't noticed, I'm out of patience, so if I were you, I wouldn't try anything. Because I will definitely shoot you." 

Thomas got to his feet. He briefly considered running, but he didn't doubt this guy would shoot him. And then what would happen to Newt? Thomas shot the man a glare, but walked to the door. When he reached it, he paused. "Which way?" 

"Left. We'll stroll for about three blocks, then another left. Got us some wheels waiting there. I assume I don't need to warn you again what will happen, am I right?" 

Thomas didn't dignify that with an answer, just began walking. 

***

The streets were nothing glamorous. Trash littered the dirty streets and there was the occasional poster about the Flare. There was also a Public Service Announcement all about the beginning symptoms of the Flare and how quickly they progress. It broke Thomas' heart as he thought about Newt and how many he already had. He felt the dark realization that this was real- that Newt was actually going to lose his mind, to never be the beautiful boy he fell in love with. One day, Newt was going to lose that spark in his eyes and that sense of rebellion and adventure that made Thomas fall for him so damn hard in the first place. But the realization didn't last. And Thomas pretended it never happened; he wasn't ready to truly accept that, not yet. God, not yet. 

So they continued walking, and Thomas left the truth behind him.   
'  
He thought about it, long and hard. Scratching the vault of his memories for something, anything, to suggest any clues for a cure. Something tickled in his mind, but he couldn't get it to form into something significant. For the first time, he wished he had cooperated with WICKED. 

They finally made it to the little, white car Red Shirt was talking about. Red Shirt walked to it, placing some kind of key card against the front passenger window and the car came to life. The back door opened and Red Shirt nodded to it, "get in." 

Thomas looked around; Minho and the others were nowhere to be found, all he could see was a cop car in the distance. "There's a cop car over there," Thomas blurted, taking any oppurtunity he could. 

"Don't get your hopes up kid, they're on my side." he said, urging Thomas with the gun. "Now get in." he said, more demanding this time. 

Thomas sighed, it was worth a shot. He threw one more glance around, really hoping Minho and the others would pop out and save the day, but it didn't seem it was going to go that way. He slid into the seat, panic starting to gnaw at him now. He watched Red Shirt as he walked around towards the driver said, then, suddenly, bullets were flying. Red Shirt stumbled and jerked when the onslaught ceased, but it was too late. Red Shirt fell to the ground. A cold sweat broke out over Thomas as he awaited the bullets that would end his life, but they never came. He heard the steady hum of a machine hovering outside, then realized it was the source of the attack. A familiar voice rang out from the machine; "Get out of the car, Thomas."

And Thomas knew exactly who it was. 

It was Janson. 

 

 

Thomas hesitated for only a moment before scooting out of the car. A screen had opened up on the hovering police machine, and on it, Janson stared back at him. A strange amount of relief found him when he saw Rat Man's face- even more so when he saw it was just a video feed, and he wasn't actually there. "How'd you find me?"

"It took time," he said, sounding annoyed. "But you're welcome, I saved you from the bounty hunter." 

Thomas scoffed. "You're the ones paying them anyways." 

"Thomas," Rat Man said, "I'm going to be frank with you. The only reason we haven't come to get you is the infection rate is astronomical. I'm urging you to come in and complete the testing." 

"Why would I come back?" Thomas snapped. 

"We've been working at it a long time, Thomas. And you're our Final Candidate, we need you. Everything rests on your shoulders." 

"I'll think about that," he said, pretending to actually consider. 

"There's something I feel obligated to tell you. Because I think it will help with your decision." Rat Man said softly, looking into Thomas' eyes. 

"What?" Thomas asked, an odd feeling coming over him. He almost didn't want to hear it. 

Rat Man paused, then continued. "Newt, your lover. He's gotten into some trouble."

Thomas' stomach dropped, but only after it grew spikes. "What kind of trouble?" he asked, the strength in his voice taking himself by surprise. 

"He seems to be succumbing to it rapidly. He'll be spiraling into madness in no time," Rat Man said, every word breaking him down. 

Thomas' heart was aching. He had known he was going to lose Newt, even though the full realization had completely set in yet, but he thought he'd have weeks left with him, hell, maybe even months before he had to lose everything he ever wanted. But Janson was right. The stress of everything was making him fall fast- and they left him alone outside the city. 

"You could very well save him," Janson said quietly, rousing Thomas from his bladed thoughts. 

"Do you enjoy this?" Thomas asked, "because it seems like you enjoy it a lot." 

"I'm just doing my job, Thomas. I want this cure, I do." Janson said. 

"Just go away," Thomas said, suddenly feeling too drained to care about a word that came out of the Rat Man's face. "I hope you'll come," Janson said urgently, "you have a chance to do great things, to save great people. A great person," he said, and Thomas didn't have to guess who he was referring to. Janson was good at playing on emotion. 

Thomas told him he'd think about again and the screen went black; the machine hovering off. 

"There he is!" 

Thomas turned to see Minho and the others sprinting to him. Minho came up short when he saw the body, "woah, what happened to him? What happened to you?" 

Thomas explained the entire thing, and when he mentioned Newt, the pain in Minho's eyes was so strong. They had known each other for over two years; Newt was Minho's best friend. Thomas looked away- seeing Minho's pain only multiplied his own. "We should go check on him," Thomas said, his heart yearning to see Newt right about now. 

"It's getting late and they don't let people in and out of the city at night," Brenda said. 

Thomas thought it over. The idea of spending one more day away from Newt made him physically sick to his stomach. "We need to try to get out before they won't let us." 

Brenda seemed to notice Thomas' desperation and nodded. "Okay. We can try, let's do this." she said, beginning to lead the way. 

Thomas followed and glanced at Minho, whose face hadn't become any less broken. Thomas looked away, imagining his face probably looked the same.


	21. *AUTHOR'S NOTE*

Guess who's back?? :D Sorry for disappearing for so long, my lovlies. We lost our internet for awhile, then moved, then got it back, but getting settled in took forever! We just recently got furniture and we've been in this new house for months!! I've also had college classes to juggle this year, as well as my high school ones. So for now, I am going to reread this entire thing (or at least the past ten chapters) to warm myself back up and remember what exactly is going on, ahaha! Then I will update tonight :) Expect updates to be on weekends, though I may be able to squeeze them in on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays as well. Be patient with me, I have a lot of after school activities and homework!!

Regardless, I'm back :) So it's time to continue this!


	22. Chapters Thirty-Three/Thirty-Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go, eekkk!! I am so excited to be back at this! I reread the entire thing (I know, I'm insane), but I'm so back in the mood, ah! Just a reminder my lovlies, this installment will follow the book (Newt being infected and well... Ya know), and the next one will be a wonderful, less painful one where Newt isn't infected! :D So let's do this!! 
> 
> ***I do NOT own anything***

They had hoped to find a cab. 

After an hour of walking, it didn't seem like they were going to be so lucky. Thomas wanted to break down, to run all over the streets and scream and curse this place and this situation, but he held himself together. Somehow he managed to do that. 

Before Thomas knew it, it was dark. The place was eerily quiet, save for the random crazed laughter or overly loud voice. It reminded him of the Scorch. It reminded him of Newt, and everything they went through to find each other. Thomas placed a hand on his cheek; he hoped there would be a slap waiting for him when he got back. 

Brenda sighed after awhile and stopped in her tracks. "We're going to have to wait until tomorrow," she looked at Thomas pleadingly, "I don't want to, trust me, but it's too far, there's no cars out, and we need to sleep." 

"Yeah," Minho muttered, "and ya never know. This might just be a stupid trap set up by the Rat Man. We'll need our energy." 

Minho sounded a bit too hopeful, and it broke Thomas' heart. 

Though, regardless of what his heart screamed and his body urged him to do, he knew they were right. "Alright, let's get back." he said urgently, convincing himself Newt would be fine one more night, and when they got back, he'd be there- normal, miraculously healed, crossing his arms and nagging about how long it took. It was Thomas' only wish at this point. 

They were only a couple blocks away from their motel, thank God. Thomas just wanted to get home and get to sleep. To forget his sense of growing dread and sleep this night away. It was rather childish logic, but the sooner he went to bed, the sooner he could get up, and the sooner they could go back to Newt. 

***

They were so close when Jorge suddenly stopped short and held out a hand, halting the group. Minho looked around, "What?" he whispered. 

Jorge put his fingers to his lips and stood, looking around. Thomas did the same, ready to take out any obstacle that stood in his way of getting to Newt as soon as possible. 

"What?" Minho repeated, looking around. 

"I keep thinking I hear someone following us..." Jorge muttered. 

"There!" Brenda shouted, nearly making Thomas jump out of his skin. Thomas swung to see what she was referring to, but in the darkness, he couldn't see a thing. It seemed it was already gone. 

"Hey! Who's there!" Minho shouted. 

Brenda shook her head. "I know I saw someone behind that building..." She shook her head. "Maybe it was nothing." 

Minho wasn't dropping it. "Come out, you coward!" he shouted. 

Thomas sighed in exasperation, "Minho, knock it off! It could be a trap, or nothing. Let's just get home, we don't have time for this!" he snapped, definitely not in the mood for this right now. 

Minho looked like he wanted to pursue, but he gave in. 

All Thomas wanted to do was sleep, but it took him forever. He just lay awake, thinking. He thought about Teresa, his best friend. Could that have been her and the others? He missed them, God, he missed them. 

But the big thought tonight was, of course, Newt. 

All he could think about was Newt; how he was feeling, what he was doing. If he was hollering at the walls and voice inside his head, or curled up, all alone, sleeping under a thin blanket. Either way, it was heartbreaking. 

Or, if worse, Rat Man had him. What if he had taken him back? Was torturing him? Or worst of all, what if they came back to discover Rat Man had killed him? 

Thomas shook his head, chasing away those thoughts. He turned over about a million times, finally finding a comfortable position. As his brain grew more tired, a more pleasant thought surfaced. Warmer. Newt, curled up at his side. Neither were speaking, but Newt was tracing his fingers along Thomas' skin admirably, and Thomas watched him. Their silence was bliss, their company was paradise.

With a much more pleasant thought on his mind, Thomas let it lead him into sleep.

 

 

When Thomas awoke, he felt like he had slept for years. 

He felt so rested and refreshed. The thoughts of last night stayed pleasant and treated him well in his sleep. After a shower and cheap breakfast, he felt unstoppable. It suddenly felt like Newt was just waiting back there, completely fine- a little lonely, but okay. Thomas couldn't wait to see him. 

The group left early, beginning to cross the city to get to Newt. There were so few people and Thomas couldn't help but notice the way the few people that were around wouldn't look at him. They just kept their heads down, pinning that surgical mask to their face. 

"Let's hurry and get the shuck out of here," Minho muttered to Thomas. "This place is giving me the creeps." 

Brenda took the lead, hoping to lead the group somewhere they could find a cab. As they walked, Minho leaned into Thomas and began talking low. "I'm freaking out. I don't know what we're gonna find when we get back to Newt." 

Suddenly Thomas wasn't so confident everything was going to be okay with Newt. 

"I'm sure he's fine," Thomas persisted. He was scared and full of dread, but he couldn't very well admit that. 

"Yeah, and the cure for the Flare is gonna fly out your butt any minute." Minho said, his sarcasm weak, like he wished it to be true. 

"Who knows? Maybe it will. Might smell funny, though." Thomas said, trying to lighten things up. When Minho didn't give, Thomas sighed and continued; "Look, we can't do anything until we get there and see him. We have to see what's going on before we can make a plan."

Minho didn't seem too thrilled or uplifted. 

As they were walking, they passed a mostly empty lot. But as they were passing a crumbled building, Thomas saw a flash of movement. He instinctively reached out and grabbed Minho's shoulder, stopping him. Brenda and Jorge did the same when they noticed, and Thomas slowly pointed to what he saw. 

A shirtless man had her back to them, hunched over and digging with his hands like he'd lost something in the mud and was frantically trying to find it. He had scratches all over his back and a large scab on his spine. His movements were jerky and off. He's elbows kept popping back as if he'd gotten something to give from the ground. The whole sight gave Thomas chills. 

"Let's keep moving," Brenda whispered, rescuing Thomas from having to see this anymore. 

"That guy is definitely sick," Minho whispered, "how is he... loose, out here?" 

Thomas pulled his eyes away from the man. He had no idea and didn't care to. "Let's go." 

When they reached the end of the block, Thomas couldn't help but look back one more time. The rest of the group did the same, not able to leave without one last look. 

They should've kept moving. 

The man sprang up and ran at them. Blood covered his mouth and nose and he pulled his lips back, exposing his stained, bloody teach. With his sick grin, he held up his bloody hands, as if showcasing them. Thomas was ready to yell, run, fight- whatever he would need. But suddenly, the man simply went back to his business. 

"This would be a good time to go," Brenda whispered. 

***

It felt like an eternity, but the group found a cab. Thomas' heart was beating a mile a minute. They were finally, truly, on their way. Thomas could feel Newt in his arms now. Thomas would've just sat there, smiling to himself the entire ride, if Minho hadn't spoken up. 

"That dude was eating a person, I just know it." 

"Maybe it was just a dog," Brenda suggested, not seeming phased either way. 

Minho shook his head. "I believe Gally. I think this entire place is infested with Cranks, and pretty soon, this city will eat each other alive." 

No one responded. Not the entire ride. But somehow Thomas knew everyone was glad to be leaving. 

***

It didn't take them long to get out and past the security. And there it was; the Berg. It was right where they left it. Thomas broke into a mad dash towards it, and he could hear Minho doing the same beside him. It turned out to be pointless anyways, as Jorge had to open it. 

The cargo door came down slow. Thomas was practically bouncing where he stood, a smile hurting his face. He expected to see Newt come running down, smiling and laughing, and jumping into Thomas' arms. No such thing happened; there was no movement anywhere. Thomas' smile fell. 

"Something's wrong," Minho muttered, sprinting inside. Thomas followed, his heart crawling as far down as it possibly could, weighing him down, suffocating him. 'He's fine,' Thomas chanted throughout his mind, 'he's fine, he's fine, he's fine...' 

The wall of heat hit them hard and Thomas nearly choked. At some point, everything had turned off. Newt had just been sitting here, stewing. It made Thomas worry about his physical health now; was he unconscious somewhere around here? His body not able to take the stuffy heat? 

Jorge didn't hesitate to power her up. Minho dashed off and Thomas couldn't help but stand there, feeling his life drain away. If everything was okay, he would've been here already. If he was laying around somewhere, sleeping, Minho would be yelling that he found him already. Thomas forced his legs to move and started after where Minho went. 

Minho was there, sitting on one of the couches, staring at a piece of paper. He looked died, like he had never had any life in him before. Thomas' could feel his face lose color as he started slowly towards Minho. "What is it?" 

"Come see for yourself," he practically whispered, never once taking his eyes off that paper. 

Before Thomas even had the chance to look at the paper, Minho's eyes filled. "He's gone," he said, his voice broken. 

Those two words took Thomas right out. He was suddenly empty, his heart void. He felt nothing at all--the pain of all of this was so great, his body was numbing him to keep him alive, that had to be it. Thomas slowly looked down at the paper, his hands shaking slightly. 

"They got inside somehow. They're taking me to live with the Cranks. It's for the best. Thank you for being my friends. Goodbye" 

Then one last sentence scribbled at the very bottom: 

"I love you, Thomas" 

Thomas froze. Slowly, he let the paper fall, letting his heart go with it.


	23. Chapters Thirty-Five/Thirty-Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thought I'd post another chapter for my lovlies tonight ;) Please do enjoy! 
> 
> ***I do NOT own anything!***

The group all sat around together. They were supposed to be planning out their next move, but no one had anything to say. After all, what do you say when you find out the sun in your life has just died? 

Thomas' mind was swirling. There had to be a solution, there was no way, after everything, that they it could be all over. That he could have lost his Newt. He wouldn't accept it. Thomas considered a lot of things. WICKED made him sick, this was their fault, they snatched away his everything like it was no big deal. But maybe he could go back. Maybe if he offered himself up for testing, they would find something to cure the Flare. They could save Newt before it was too late. 

Thomas tried to tell himself that he was just thinking up ridiculous things in the heat of the moment, but part of him was still considering. 

Minho snapped him back to reality; "I... Okay, everybody... Look. Ever since we broke out, I've followed you guys and haven't complained that much... But this time. This time, I want to call the shots. You're going to do what I say. And... And if you say no, then. Then to hell with you, I'll do it anyway," he started, trying to find his words. Thomas' heart swelled, hoping he knew what Minho was going to say next. "I know we have more important things to do, bigger goals..." Minho continued, "like finding the others, and the Right Arm and WICKED and all that klunk, but... We're going to go get Newt." 

Brenda didn't miss a beat. "They call it Crank Palace, that's where they have to had taken him." 

Thomas' heart was about as lifted as it could be in this situation. They were going to get him--He knew it, he knew he and Newt weren't a thing of the past just yet! 

It wasn't long before they were on their way. Brenda told Minho and Thomas what those places were like; they definitely didn't live up to their name. Thomas was disgusted thinking about Newt being in that place, but was eager to get him back. Thomas didn't care what Newt was like; he didn't care if Newt wanted to scream and kill because Newt would be there somewhere. And no mater how wrong it sounds, Thomas would let Newt spiral into the deepest depths of madness before he gave him up. 

When they arrived, Thomas was the first one off the Berg. He stood, staring at the wall surrounding the Crank Palace. Only a hundred or so feet and all wood planks. Not the classiest way to go. The door in the wall opened, and two armed men came out, weapons raised. They must've seen or heard the Berg's approach. They shouted something that Thomas couldn't hear. "Let's go talk to them, they must be immune if they have those launchers." 

Minho made a comment about how Cranks could've taken over, but Thomas didn't find it funny in the slightest. 

When they reached the guards, Thomas grimaced. They looked awful; exhausted and filthy. But definitely not Cranks. "Who are you people?" One of the guards demanded, stepping forward slightly. 

Thank God, Jorge did the talking as usual. "You wouldn't have known we were coming. We're from WICKED, one of our guys got taken here by mistake and we're here to get him back." he said smoothly. 

Technically, it was true. 

The guard looked pissed more than anything. "Do you honestly think I give a crap if you're from WICKED? You guys come in here all time, thinking you own the place. Wanna go look for your buddy with the Cranks? Be my guest. Especially with what's been going on lately." he said, motioning for them to enter. "Enjoy your stay at Crank Palace," he said, not going light on the sarcasm. 

Thomas tried to urge the 'What's been going on lately' comment, but with no luck. So he tried a different approach. "Do you know if you've gotten any new.. People in lately?" 

The guard paused and chewed it over. "He or she?" 

"He." Thomas went on, "about this tall, messy blond hair, has a limp?" Thomas had to refrain from adding 'the most beautiful person you've ever seen', feeling it might be inappropriate in this situation. 

The other guard spit and looked Thomas up and down. "I might know somethin'. But knowin' and tellin' are two different things...You kids look like you've got plenty of money. Wanna share?" 

Thomas looked back at Jorge, hoping he had some. Hoping he had millions to throw at these scumbags- whatever it took to get Newt back. Jorge just looked mad so Minho spoke up. "We've got money, shuck-face. Now tell us." 

The guard moved his Launcher, jabbing at the air before them, making Thomas flinch at the thought of being blasted with one of those things again. "Show us those cash cards or we're not startin' this conversation." 

Jorge pulled out his card and waved it. "Here it is. You'll have to shoot me before you take it, and it'll be no good to you without my prints, hermano. Now. Take us to our friend." 

The guard seemed pleased and nodded. "Follow me. Oh, and if you get injured, I suggest just turning and running while you still can." 

With that, he turned on his heels and led them inside. 

 

 

The Crank "Palace" was a horrible, filthy place. 

The guard talked on and on and on, but Thomas wasn't catching a word. Thomas just studied this horrid place. It was sort of like a village cut-off from the rest of the world. And, well, filled with Psychos. Each little home they passed was nothing more than a miserable, tiny shack. Thomas' heart dropped, and not even for Newt this time, for the ones who had to stay here all the time. Who had to live here. At the same time, though, Thomas was beyond glad they'd be getting Newt out of here as soon as possible. 

They were occasional screams and horrible things being yelled, but otherwise, they didn't run into much trouble. Thomas just hoped Newt wasn't hurt or too terrified. Thomas inhaled deeply and thought about those last four words scribbled onto the note; "I love you, Thomas" 

His heart clenched. "Thomas". Newt didn't call him that, not unless it was serious like this. Thomas wanted to throw up at the thought of Newt taking this so seriously, so bent on leaving forever that he'd call Thomas by his actual name. 

Thomas shook it all off yet again and forced himself to focus on Newt saying "Tommy". 

Eventually, they reached the Central Building. The guards told the group to wait outside and disappeared inside. Thomas was just beginning to get annoyed when a couple came out, holding hands. Curiously, they walked over, making Thomas a little nervous. 

The woman spoke, soft and gentle; "When did you all get here?" she asked, looking about the little group. 

"We're looking for someone," Thomas spoke up before anyone else could. "His name's Newt- he's got a limp, blond hair. Have you seen him?" 

The man spoke this time. "A lot of people with blond hair around here. What kind of name's Newt anyway?" 

Thomas could feel his irritation grow. He was about to take a swing at this guy for his insulting Newt, especially at a time like this. Apparently Minho noticed, because he grabbed Thomas' shoulder and gave it a little squeeze. No one had a chance to do anything before the sounds coming from that building grew louder and louder. The couple gave each other a worried look and left, hand-in-hand. 

Despite how much he had wanted to hit that man, he was jealous. He would kill to be holding Newt's hand right now. 

It felt like hours, but the guards finally came back out. Thomas met them half way, "was he in there? What'd you find out?" he asked, not caring how desperate and pleading he sounded. 

One of the guards sighed slightly. "It took some asking around, but we think we found your guy. Fits your description perfectly, but..." 

Thomas almost grabbed this guy by the shoulders, but managed to keep his hands to himself. "What!? But what!?" 

"He said- very pointedly, I might add- to tell you lot to get lost."


	24. Chapter Thirty-Seven/Thirty-Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm only slightly ashamed to say I'm adding another chapter... I just couldn't quite stop there! But only one more!! I need to keep some sort of suspense to keep you guys coming back, ahaha!!! 
> 
> Please do enjoy, lovlies! 
> 
> *I do NOT own anything!***

Thomas felt like he couldn't breathe. He had to put his hand on his chest to make sure somebody hadn't just stabbed him in the lungs. 

"Show us where he is," Minho said, shocking Thomas. How could he speak? Thomas couldn't even remember how to breathe. 

The guards tried to refuse, and just like that, Thomas had air in his lungs again. And he was going to use them to fight to see Newt. "Your job's not done. We said take him to us so we can take him with us, that's what you're getting the money for. Now take us to him." He demanded, sounding stronger than ever before. 

It took some doing, but the guards gave in. "Fine." One of them snapped. "But you asked for it." 

When they turned and began to follow, Minho was right at their heels, and then everyone else. 

Except Thomas, who was right at their sides. 

The deeper they went into the place, the worse it got. Dirty, loud, insane. Every word he could dig up seemed to be an understatement. Thomas couldn't imagine how even a tough guy like Newt could stand being here. No one in their right mind-- Thomas stopped his thought right there. 

The guards made sure they really wanted to do this, then led them into the very heart of the Central Zone. 

This place was a madhouse. 

Literally. 

Cranks everywhere, practically body-to-body. Milling around, yelling at each other, arguing. So much was going on, it was dizzying. There were small fights here and there that would start randomly, startling Thomas each time. Some were just standing in screaming. Those who had it more together huddled about in groups, casting weary glances around, looking ready to fight if they needed to. And then of course, there were those leaned against walls, smiling obliviously, high on the Bliss. 

They made their way to where Newt was; most Cranks stopped to watch the group go through. Someone grabbed Thomas' shirt by the shoulder. In a panic, he spun to see who it was. A woman stood there, her hair was dark and messy and she had a scratch on her chin, but other than that she seemed somewhat normal. She stared at him, frowning. Then suddenly, she smiled as wide as her mouth would possibly let her, revealing teeth that were in good shape, besides maybe needing to be brushed. 

"I want to kiss you," she said, "what do you say, Munnie?" she began laughing and howling and cackling, touching Thomas' chest. 

Needless to say, he jerked himself away and hurried along. Brenda leaned over, "That was by far the creepiest thing I've ever seen." 

Thomas simply nodded and kept going. 

 

 

The guards took them to the bowling ally. "He's in there, now pay up."

Minho craned his neck inside and looked around for a moment before confirming that Newt was indeed in there. Jorge arranged with the guards to have them wait to make sure the group got back safely- tripling their pay. The guards agreed. 

Minho started into the building and Thomas ran after him, Brenda grabbing Thomas' hand and falling in tail behind him. Minho pointed off to a corner. The place was packed, but Thomas saw him- his Newt. 

Thomas could feel his heart flying. When Newt noticed them, Thomas picked up the pace. But stopped when Newt snarled. "I told you bloody shanks to get lost!" Newt screamed. 

Thomas felt like he had been slapped in the face. And not one of Newt's 'welcome back' slaps, either. This one stung, it hurt- and it wasn't even real. Thomas could feel his heart darkening. Hearing Newt say that made it all click--Newt was never going to be the same again. 

Newt looked at Thomas and his face twisted. He gave no effort to hide the misery on his face. Thomas tried to go to him, to embrace him, but Newt shook his head. "Don't come any closer," he said softly. 

Thomas frowned, then sighed when he saw the Launcher in Newt's hands. 

But Thomas' eyes didn't stay there, they ran up and down Newt. His Newt. Alive, but miserably. Ragged, his eyes dark and wired, his hair even more of a mess than usual. He was pale and flushed at the same time, and not a single thing about him said stable. All Thomas wanted to do was sweep him off his feet and carry him out of here, get him to the Berg and lay him down for a rest. Nurse him back to health somehow. 

Minho frowned, "Woah, woah, Newt. Where'd you get that thing?" 

"I stole it," he said, his eyes dropping. "From a guard who made me... unhappy." 

Newt's hands were shaking, but he continued to speak. "I'm not well," he said, his voice breaking. "I appreciate ya comin' for me, but... This is where it ends. This is where it needs to end. I want you to leave now." He looked at Thomas as he continued. "I want you to get in that Berg and fly out of here, and never come back for me again. Understand?" 

Thomas wanted to speak, but was halted by the sadness in Newt's eyes. This was a different sadness, it was focused directly at Thomas, no one else. "Tommy," he said, "how could you come back here like this and ask me to leave with you? How could you? You bloody betrayed me," he whispered, turning his eyes down, tears filling them. "Seeing you now... Asking me to leave with you... You're disgusting." he said, looking back at him. "You make me sick." 

Thomas stood there and froze. He didn't breathe, he didn't even try. Nothing he had ever been through, heard, saw- nothing had ever hurt him so badly. 

So he let himself forget how to breathe yet again.


	25. Chapter Thirty-Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again lovlies :D Another chapter for you tonight! I'd do two (especially since I might not be able to update tomorrow), but I have a friend over tonight so only one tonight! 
> 
> I hope you enjoy anyway :)
> 
> ***I do NOT own anything or anyone!***

Against Thomas' will, his breath returned to him. 

"What are you talking about?" he said, barely able to speak. 

Newt just looked at him, never wavering. His eyes held Thomas' and all Thomas wanted was to melt the ice in his eyes melt. Newt's Launcher was trembling in his hands, but he kept it just slightly angled towards Thomas. It was amazing how that little, tiny detail broke Thomas down more than he could ever say. Slowly, the Launcher pointed to the ground and Newt's eyes did indeed soften. It was Newt again, it was his Newt. 

"I don't understand," Thomas persisted, softer now. He couldn't bear Newt any hardness, especially when it was his Newt again. "Why would you say this to me?" 

"I'm sorry," he said, looking up at Thomas. Those beautiful eyes glistening making Thomas break down. "Guys, I'm getting worse by the minute and I don't have many sane ones left. Please leave. For your own goods," he paused and locked those eyes on Thomas, "for me." 

Thomas opened his mouth to argue, but Newt took a step forward and placed his hand against Thomas' lips. "No more talking from you. Just... Please, Tommy, please leave. I'm begging you, I'm begging you- please do this for me." he hesitated, but he continued; "I've met some people here, a group. They're much more like me. And... They plan on breaking out of here and heading to Denver later today. I... I'm going with them." 

Thomas didn't say a word when he paused. He simply waited for more; there had to be more. 

"I don't expect you to understand me. I'm different from you now. It's just going to get worse for me, and I can't have you witnessing me. I can't be around to make it harder for you guys, or worse, hurt you. So let's say our bloody goodbyes and remember the good ol' days." 

"I won't do that," Minho said, stealing the words from Thomas. 

"Shuck it!" Newt snapped, startling Thomas by the suddenness. "Do you have any idea how hard it is for me to be calm right now!? Get out of here, do you understand me? Get out of here!" 

Someone poked Thomas in the shoulder. Thomas spun around to see that a group of Cranks had gathered behind him. The man who had jabbed him was a tall, broad-chested man with long, greasy hair. "You heard our friend, he told you to leave." 

"This is none of your business," Thomas snapped, annoyance itching up his spine. "He's been my boyfriend way longer than he's been your friend." 

The man just slicked his greasy hair back. "That boy's a Crank now, and so are we. Which makes him ours now. So beat it," he snapped. 

Minho turned, fire in his eyes. "Look Psycho, maybe your ears are clogged with the Flare. This is between us and Newt. So beat it." 

"I was hoping you'd resist," the man snarled, holding up a shard of glass squeezed in his hands, blood dripping from within his grip. "I was getting bored." 

The man sliced the glass towards Thomas' face. Thomas managed to duck out of the way, his heart spiking with adrenaline. Thomas threw his hands up, ready to knock it out of the man's hand, but Newt beat him to it. Newt had dove forward and swatted the glass out of the man's hand, and Minho was tackling the guy in a second. 

The two of them tumbled back, falling onto a woman from earlier that they had stepped over to get to Newt. She began screaming bloody murder and in no time, they were in a wrestling match between the three of them. Newt helped Thomas up briefly, then turned their attention to the others. "Hey! Stop, stop it now!" 

Thomas just stood there, frozen, his eyes only on Newt, watching that fury and rage build up in his eyes. Newt, the once beautiful, happy Newt. Those eyes that had once held such happiness and light. His spark, Thomas realized, was gone. That rebellious, beautiful, youthful spark. The one Thomas had fallen in love with so many times. It was gone. Newt's diseased brain had stolen it away. Newt was stolen away. This wasn't Newt, this wasn't Thomas' Newt. Not anymore. 

"Stop it or I'll shoot you, I don't bloody care who gets hit!" Newt screamed, shaking with rage. Thomas just stood, searching his eyes. Hoping, praying, dying to find that spark. That undeniable proof of Newt. It couldn't be gone, it couldn't be. 

The greasy haired man stood, huffing as he got to his feet. Minho clambered up next, scratches on his face. Thomas saw the slightest twitch of motion in Newt's muscles, then realized he had squeezed the trigger. 

Within a second, Greasy Hair was on the floor, writhing as long fingers of electric fire crept and clutched at his body. Thomas looked at Newt wide-eyed and hopeful. He had turned on his "new friend" for them and hadn't hit Minho. 

"I told him to stop," Newt mumbled more to himself than anyone else. Suddenly, he aimed the Launcher at Minho. "Now go. No more talking," he said, his arm and voice shaking. 

Minho put his hands up. "Are you going to shoot me?" 

"Just go!" Newt screamed, aiming it more fiercely. "I asked nicely and now I'm telling you to. Leave!" 

Thomas stared at him for a long time. His love, his warmth, his life. Reduced to this. He could see him laughing, smiling, smirking--he could see that spark. He could feel his skin on his fingertips, his lips on his own, his hair in his fingers. But when the sweet images faded, there was just this left. Shaking, crazy, angry. This wasn't Newt, but at the same time, Thomas still loved him. He wanted to love him. He wanted to have him forever, but all the Newt parts of him were gone. 

His Newt was gone. 

And Thomas' heart went with him. 

"Minho, let's go." he said, saying that saddest thing he had ever said. 

Minho couldn't believe it, but when he looked at Thomas, something softened. Newt glanced over at Thomas, tears filling his eyes. "Thank you," he whispered. 

Thomas' body needed Newt against him, one more time, and apparently Newt felt the same because he dropped the Launcher and rushed to Thomas. Thomas wrapped his arms around Newt's waist and collided into him. There wasn't a space between their bodies, not even a razor's margin. Newt buried his face into Thomas' neck and squeezed his shoulders tighter than ever before. 

And Thomas held him forever. Not a long forever. A tiny one. Maybe two minutes, maybe more, maybe less. But it was forever. To them, it was forever. Just another one of their many. But this one. This one was the most important forever. 

"I love you," Newt murmured into Thomas' neck. Thomas could hear that he was crying, and it wasn't long before he could feel tears on his neck.

Thomas was crying as well. His chin resting on top of Newt's head, he sucked in a shaky breath. "I love you, too. So much, Newt. More than anything. God, I love you so much," he said, spilling his soul into every word, emotions swelling everywhere, tears beginning to silently pour from his eyes. Emptying him of the person he used to be; the person he used to be with Newt. 

They forced themselves away from each other, and Thomas kissed his forehead, long and soft. Newt sniffled and rubbed his eyes. "Goodbye," he murmured, not looking at Thomas. And maybe that was for the best. 

Thomas simply nodded, more to himself than anyone else. Without another word or another glance or another kiss or another forever, Thomas grabbed Minho's arm and Brenda's hand and walked away. Leaving behind the only boy he would ever love, the only person he could ever love, the only person he would've died to stay with for just thirty more seconds, the boy he would've sold his soul to cure, the boy he would've suffered the worst pain just to kiss him one more time. 

He walked away, and he left behind His Newt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I was going to do the typical two-chapter installments I usually do. But this was just way too emotional! Even I need a break from my own writing right now. XD I hope you guys enjoy (and by enjoy, of course, I mean I hope you guys are drowning in feels and emotions like me), and I will try to update again tomorrow, but for sure on Tuesday!! 
> 
> Until then, my lovlies <3


	26. Chapter Forty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovlies!! 
> 
> It's pretty late here and I just got back from my Knowledge Bowl tournament. About nine o'clock, but considering I'm running on only fifteen minutes of sleep because my best friend and I made bad choices and stayed up and watched movies ALL NIGHT(and morning) last night into this morning, it feels preeeeettttyyy late. 
> 
> So, sorry for only one chapter, but I thought I would make sure and post no matter what, despite how tired I am!!! OH. And feedback is so greatly appreciated; I love to hear from you guys! And the story went up 19 hits in one day! You all are amazing! We're almost to 2,000 on this story-that's crazy. I love you guys so much... Please enjoy <3 
> 
> ***I do NOT own anything or anyone!***

The guards were no where to be found. 

But Thomas couldn't care less. 

As they made their way through the busy Central Zone, Cranks called out to them tauntingly and menacingly. Thomas didn't ever stop, he just marched along. He couldn't feel. Everything was stone, and being here with these things just reminded him what had stolen away the light of his life. Eventually, he had to catch the Cranks glances. Sick, twisted. Pure madness. And somewhere beneath the forming wall of numbness, his heart ached for what His Newt would become. 

Just as it seemed Thomas would be able to quietly make his way out of here, like he wanted to, shouts began ringing out. In moments, their guards- now unarmed- came careening around the corner, sprinting towards the exit to the town and Berg. 

Minho's eyes were lit with fire. "Hey you two, get back here!" he screamed. 

"Didn't you idiots hear me!?" One of the guards shouted as he ran past them. "Run!" 

Thomas didn't want to. He wanted to sit down and wait and let whatever was coming come to him, but he knew better. He had family to live for, and he'd just have to catch a break later. So without giving it thought, he turned and sprinted after the guards. 

Turned out they hadn't abandoned them, the guards had been dragged off by Cranks, had their weapons stolen, and barely escaped. Thomas could believe that; what with the large group of completely gone Cranks running behind them- all crazed laughter and howls and shrieks. 

Something astounding happened while he was running; he felt something. Granted, it was fear, but it felt like an orchestra roaring inside of him. Once again, Thomas had barely escaped being numb. For now, even as the guards went another way, he'd make it back to the Berg. Then he'd go inside and he'd mourn- and he'd mourn and mourn and mourn with all he had, and he'd mourn everyday. But somehow, an eternity of indescribable agony was more appealing to Thomas than being numb. 

"Keep going, we're almost there!" Thomas shouted, risking a glance over his shoulder. The Cranks had gained no ground, but Thomas still ran harder than he ever had before. The horror the Cranks filled him with was almost unreal. 

When they reached the Berg, Jorge went to work on getting that hatch down. It felt like an eternal slowness, but eventually it opened enough for them to get inside. They barely made it inside when the Berg lifted off the ground. Thomas watched; the Cranks never stood a chance, but all the same, Thomas was relieved. 

Jorge hovered the ship for a bit so everyone could pull themselves back together. The Cranks couldn't do a thing on the ground, after all. They watched the delirious crowd below from a viewing port for awhile, but Thomas couldn't stand it anymore. He couldn't care about these people, even though he did feel for them, he had just lost his everything. These people were nothing to him and he had no room in his bleeding heart for them right now. 

It wasn't long before they were off, Jorge flying them away from there. Away from Newt. 

Forever. 

Minho simply melted to the ground; slumped against the wall. "What happens when he runs out of grenades in that Launcher to protect him?" he asked quietly, and Thomas knew it wasn't a question meant to be answered. 

Thomas thought about sitting besides Minho and mourning with him, but he couldn't. Not yet. Newt was so special to him that his mourning of him needed to be personal and private. "I'm gonna catch some sleep," he murmured. 

Brenda grabbed his hand. "Thomas," she said, kissing his cheek, then hugging him as tightly as she physically could. "I'm so sorry." 

Thomas hugged her back briefly, but all he wanted to do was leave. He ended the hug early and turned towards the living quarters. He plopped down on one of the couches and laid there. For a long time, he just thought about Newt and all their good times. It was almost enough, just for a moment, to forget. But then out of nowhere, it was hard to breathe. His eyes began to sting and fill with tears. In a matter of minutes, he was sobbing. Loud and ugly and only muffled by his hands that he had plastered over his mouth as he screamed into them. He pulled his knees in tight, curling into a ball, keeping his shaking hands against mouth. His entire body racked and shook with a tremor like a mighty empire crumbling to rubble. How could pain like this be real? It was unbelievable. The pain was so bad. So bad that words wouldn't begin to cover it. The pain was worse than anything he had ever felt and ever would feel. This pain was raw and twisted and sick. This was the kind of pain only the devil himself would put someone through. 

Thomas' breath hitched. 

A devil. 

Rat Man. 

No... 

WICKED. 

And then, amongst a storm of misery... 

There was a fire.


	27. Chapter Forty-One/Forty-Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, my lovlies! 
> 
> A full, normal chapter today :) I think I can squeeze a chapter in a day, and on weekends I'll post at least two a day! 
> 
> Oh! And we went up another 20 hits in one day!! Amazing, I love you all so much!!! Thank you! 
> 
> ***I do NOT own anything!***

Eventually, after Thomas had long gone silent, Minho wandered into the living quarters and sat with Thomas. 

Thomas pushed himself up and sat up beside him. Thomas didn't try to hide his stained cheeks or glossy, red eyes. By the way Minho looked, he had been doing the same anyway. Minho let out a stuttering sigh. "How could he do that? How could he not come back with us? How could he point a weapon at us?" 

"He never would've pulled the trigger," Thomas offered, truly hoping that was true. 

"You saw his eyes. He's barely even himself anymore. They were just full of complete lunacy," he said, shaking his head as he continued. "If I had pushed any farther, I'd be fried right now. He's crazy, man. Complete wacko from top to bottom." 

Thomas sighed. "Maybe that's a good thing at this point." he said halfheartedly. 

Minho looked at him as if he had just murdered Newt himself or something. "How can you, of all people, say that about him?"

Thomas shrugged a little. "Maybe... Maybe the Newt we know is being changed by the insanity. Maybe our Newt is gone by now, so he doesn't have to suffer. He doesn't have to know what he's doing and why it's bad. He doesn't have to watch himself lose who he used to be. He just... He wouldn't have to suffer," Thomas said, beating back another wave of motion. 

Minho shook his head. "No way. You saw him. He snapped out of it for a minute when you two had your moment. I don't believe it. I think he'll always be there just enough to be screaming on the inside, deranged and suffering every shuck second of it. Tormented like a dude buried alive."

Thomas thought about it, no matter how much his weak heart prayed him not to. And in doing so, he only brought on more misery and a wall of silence between the two. He couldn't speak if he was choking back emotions, anyway. He sat there in complete silence, and the thought obviously tore Minho up as well, because he just sat there in complete silence, too. They probably would've just sat there together, quietly grieving, for a long time if the Berg hadn't landed with a thump. 

Thomas sighed and rubbed his face with both hands, feeling absolutely drained yet again. "I guess we're here," he murmured. 

"I think I understand WICKED a little more now," Minho suddenly blurted, staring off absently. "Seeing those eyes up close; seeing them cloud with madness. It's not the same when it's someone you've known for a long time. I've seen plenty of my friends die, but this is worse. The Flare, man. There's nothing worse. I think maybe... If there was a way to get a cure..." his voice trailed off and he didn't finish his sentence. 

He didn't have to, Thomas knew what he was implying. And Thomas wasn't sure how to feel about it. The urge to turn himself in and demand a cure as fast as possible to save Newt at the very last second was so strong, but he knew better. He knew to deny them and fight them and their unethical practices until his last breath- for all those who had died, and for Newt and his cruel fate. 

The issue would never be black and white, Thomas knew this. 

After just sitting in silence for awhile longer, Brenda and Jorge came in. They quietly sat down so carefully as if they'd break Thomas and Minho with any movements that were too brash. "I'm sorry, guys." Brenda said gently. 

Minho and Thomas just sort of let her say it. Thomas knew she meant well, but it was hard to take any of it seriously--they just would never understand what Newt meant to them. 

Brenda cleared her throat. "I know it's hard, but we need to think about our next move." 

Minho flew to his feet and pointed at her. "You can think all you want about whatever shuck thing you want, Ms. Brenda. We just left our friend with a bunch of psychos." he snapped, turning and storming out of the room. 

Brenda turned her eyes to Thomas. "I'm sorry." 

Thomas shook his head. She wasn't trying to insult or stop their mourning. She was just thinking about the future. And Thomas supposed, to keep himself from being swallowed by the impending darkness that constantly loomed behind him, he should think about it too. "It's okay," he said quietly. "It's just going to take some time." 

"We're really spent, muchachos." Jorge said softly. "Maybe we should take a couple days off to rest and think this through thoroughly." 

Thomas hated to admit it, but he had hoped they'd suggest something else that could distract him. But at the same time, he doubted he could force himself to do anything other than sit around for a long time. His entire body felt weighted. "Yeah," he muttered. 

Brenda reached out and squeezed his hand. "Hey, we'll figure something out, okay?" 

"There's only one place to start," Thomas said eagerly. "Gally's." 

"Maybe so," she said with a smile, giving his hand a squeeze, then turning to Jorge. "Come on, let's make something to eat." 

Gally's. It was Thomas' only chance at revenge. 

That newfound fire in Thomas' chest came back to life at the thought, roaring and urging him on. It didn't last; the sorrow bogged it down, including Thomas himself, keeping them pinned and doing nothing. It just wasn't time for that fire yet, the sadness wasn't done playing its part just yet. 

And so Thomas sat, alone with his misery. 

***

Thomas never thought he could have so little of an appetite. 

After he endured the meal, everyone just sort of went off their separate ways. Thomas' body still felt heavy, but he found himself wandering around the Berg anyway. A couple times he let out a whimper and a strangled breath, on the verge of tears, but managed to control himself and keep it in. As he was sliding his hand down a wall of one of the halls, thinking about his poor Newt and what his life would become- the little he had left- Thomas remembered something. 

'The note'.

Thomas stood, completely dazed for second, then sprinted to the bathroom and locked himself in it. Suddenly he was alive again, as if that note would have the cure written on it or something. 'I can't believe I forgot the note!' he thought. Newt had said he would've known the right time to open it, and he mentally cursed himself for not opening it at the Crank Palace. If that hadn't been the right time, when would have been? 

Thomas ripped it out of his pocket, almost ripping the precious paper in the process, and frantically unfolded the already rubbed worn paper. He sucked in his breath as he looked; the soft, warm glow from the bathroom lights illuminated two, short sentences: 

"Kill me. If you've ever loved me, kill me." 

This couldn't be it. 

Thomas read it over and over, wishing the words would change. He even flipped it over to the back a couple times. The thought of Newt, terrified of succumbing to his own twisting mind, writing that all alone made Thomas sick. Thomas couldn't help but remember how cruel and mad Newt had been specifically to Thomas when they had first arrived to see him. He just wanted Thomas to save him from this fate worse than death. 

And Thomas had failed him. 

 

 

Thomas decided he wouldn't tell the others about the note. It had been left for his eyes only, and just because Thomas failed him didn't change that. 

Thomas couldn't help but feel guilty about how relieved he was he didn't have to do it. Hell, he doubted he could have anyway. Having the best thing that had ever happened to him stolen away was bad enough, Thomas just couldn't snuff out his existence. It was cruel, but it was how he felt. 

Thomas decided he needed to stop being so obvious about his mourning and force it down as far as he could. He needed to keep moving. Finally, his flame had taken its rightful place in his heart; he would avenge Newt, and he'd do it alongside the Right Arm. He'd make WICKED pay. It wouldn't bring Newt back, and it sure as hell wouldn't dull the blades of misery constantly twisting through his heart and stomach, but it would at least the feed the fire- make Thomas feel like he was helping in some way. And that would be enough; especially since it would be all he could ever hope to achieve. 

So after two days of being immobile, they planned. And of course, the only place the conversation could go was Gally. 

They were going to Gally. 

On the morning they were to leave, Thomas showered and forced himself to eat a small breakfast. Everyone was anxious after being in the same place so long by now, even Minho seemed somewhat ready to move on. The plan was to go to Gally's apartment and start from there. Once they were ready, they all gathered at the hatch door. 

"Let me do the talking again," Jorge said. 

"And when we get inside, we'll find a cab." Brenda added with a nod. 

"Fine," Minho muttered. "Let's quit this shuck yapping and get a move on." 

Thomas couldn't have said it better himself. Moving, fighting, and avenging would be the only things to feed his fire and keep his sorrow at bay. This was just the distraction he needed, and he was willing to do anything at this point for this cause. For Newt. And for Thomas' dying heart. 

Jorge pressed the button and the cargo door started its descent down. Half way down, and they could see three people standing there. Though, by the time it thumped onto the ground, it was clear these people weren't here to welcome then. 

Two men and one woman. All wearing the same protective metallic mask as Red Shirt. The men held pistols as the woman held a Launcher. Their faces were dirty and sweaty, and their clothes had some tears in them as if they had to fight to get there. 

"What is this?" Jorge asked. 

"Shut your mouth, Munie." One of the men snapped, his voice sounding so sinister through the mask. "Now step down here nice and easy, or else you won't like what happens. Don't try anything." 

Thomas looked passed their assailants and was shocked to see that Denver's gates were wide open; two lifeless bodies laying before it. Jorge was first to respond, thankfully; "You start firing that thing, hermano, and we'll be on you like stink on a dookie. You may get one of us, but we'll get all three of you." 

Thomas knew it was an empty threat. 

"We've got nothing to lose," the man countered. "So go ahead and try it. I'm pretty confident I could nail two of you before anyone takes a single step." he said, raising his gun and aiming it at Jorge's face. 

Jorge's jaw clenched, but he rose his hands. "Fair enough. You win for now." 

"You are one tough slinthead," Minho groaned, raising his hands regardless. "Better not let your guard down." 

Thomas knew there was no other choice. He put his hands up and was first to walk down the ramp. The others followed right behind, and they were led around to the back of the Berg where an old, beat-up van waited- the engine rumbling. A lady in a protective mask sat at the steering wheel, and two others holding Launchers sat on the bench seat beside her. 

One of the men opened the side door, then gestured inside with a nod of his head. "In you go. One wrong move and bullets start flying. Like I said, we've got nothing to lose. And I can think of a lot worse things in the world then one or two less Munies." 

Thomas climbed inside, but was calculating their odds all the while. Six versus six, but they had weapons. Thomas thought about if Newt were there, and wondered if he would have risked it. He decided he wouldn't have, from risk that Newt get shot if they attacked these guys. 

"Who's paying you to steal Munies?" Thomas asked, trying to confirm what Teresa had told Gally, that Munies were being rounded up and sold. 

Nobody responded. 

When the three that had met them at the Berg clambered inside, they slid the van door shut, then aimed their weapons towards the back. "There's a pile of hoods in the corner. Put them on, and if I catch you sneaking a peak during the ride, I'll make sure you never see anything again. We like to keep our secrets nice and safe." 

Thomas sighed. He didn't want to be here, he didn't want to deal with this. He wanted to bring down WICKED to its knees. He wanted to keep them from doing the Trials with future Immunes. He wanted to bring them down and let people live without fear of them; every time Thomas saw a tree or a patch of grass, he thought about how life was coming back. How one day, the Earth would most likely recover. If WICKED was at the lead of that new world, then it wouldn't be much better than now. 

But he knew better than to fight or argue. So he grabbed a hood and slipped it over his head. All he saw was darkness as the van lurched into motion. Of course, the darkness morphed into images of Newt and his heart cried. 

He was beginning to get used to the sound of its sobs.


	28. Author's Note!!!

Hey lovlies!! 

So I wanna know what you guys think; should I kinda-sorta speed things up until we see Newt again? I know that a few friends of mine have read this, and have read it without reading the books themselves, so this is sorta the book to them. But I don't want you all to get bored and disappear if we have a couple of chapters without Newtmas (Gosh, it's going to be so much easier to write the one where Newt isn't infected). 

So I want to know what you guys think! If there's anyone still out there and are willing to give their opinion, I'd like to know what you think: 

Should I drastically speed things up? As in, basically summarize aside from action-packed parts and important parts. 

Should I slightly speed things up? As in, pay less attention to every single word and sentence in the book and skip over some that could be considered not important to the story. 

Or should I continue on and stay faithful to portraying the full story and how Thomas feels what with Newt being gone and whatnot, and not JUST the Newtmas? 

If you're out there, it would be greatly appreciated if you left an opinion! I've already asked a couple of my friends who read this, but I am COMPLETELY undecided. Any input would be helpful!!


	29. Chapter Forty-Three/Forty-Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovlies! Another 20 hits today, thank you all so much!! 
> 
> A slightly later update than usual, I know, I'm sorry! I had an awful migraine and planned on napping for an hour and ending up doing so for three... Imagine my surprise when it was almost 8, and I had two looong assignments that I hadn't even started due before 11:59... XD 
> 
> But I successfully finished them and it only took me about two, almost three hours and here I am :) My nap was pretty long, so I may post another chapter after this one tonight! :D 
> 
> ***I do NOT own The Death Cure or any of the characters!***

The ride was smooth, but way too long. Not being able to see wasn't exactly helping either. 

The moment the door opened, all he wanted to do was take the hood off his head. Though, a quick death threat from one of these guys kept him at bay. It wasn't long before hands were grabbing him and forcing him out anyway. He was completely disoriented and almost knocked off his feet a couple times, but he managed to keep up, even as they went down a flight of stairs.

A door unlocked before him, and with the opening of a door, a wave of murmuring voices hit him. He couldn't stand it anymore, he immediately reached up and tore off the hood. 

He and the others stood in a huge room of people; sitting around, a little dirty, a little beat up. A woman even came forward, fear on her face. "What's it like out there? We've been in here for a few hours and things were falling apart. Has it gotten worse?" 

As Thomas answered, he got a little crowd around him. Munies, all of them brought here against their will to be sold right back to WICKED. "We were outside the city-got nabbed at the gates. Why? What was happening?" 

The woman's eyes fell to the ground. "The government declared a state of emergency, and suddenly all the cops and cop machines and everything were gone, all at once it seemed. We got nabbed by some people at the city building before we even got a chance to figure out what was going on."

A few other people told Thomas how quickly they had been taken away, and Thomas had to admit, this was weird. But he was having a hard time caring about why; he was here, that was his problem now. He let his eyes wander and much to his shock, he spotted a familiar face. 

Aris. 

Thomas pointed him out to Minho, and Aris noticed them. His face lit up and rushed over to them. "Glad you're okay," he said, sounding relieved. 

Thomas realized that, seeing him now, any bitterness he had towards him was gone now. He was just so glad to see a familiar face. "You too," he said, smiling. 

Aris looked around for a moment, mainly around Thomas. He frowned and remained silent, and somehow Thomas knew he was looking for Newt and assuming the worst. Little did Aris know the "worst" was a million times worse than he was actually thinking. Thomas quickly adverted his gaze in case Aris bring it up; Thomas doubted he had the energy to tell him what had happened to his Newt. 

And that was when he saw Teresa. 

His heart lurched; memories, good and bad. Seeing her holding Chuck's hand when they were escaping, her lightly and compassionately touching Newt's wounded forehead after Gally had hit him with that board, her constant teasing in the Maze just from the way he said Newt's name. 

The way she played him, sided with WICKED, betrayed him and all the Hell she had put him through. 

His emotions collided and conflicted like two worlds hitting each other. Seeing her reminded him of Newt and Chuck and good times and his heart hurt. Those times were over, those precious people were gone, and he couldn't decide if Teresa was all that precious to him anymore. 

All he wanted was Newt to take his hand and tell him what to do. 

But Newt wasn't there to save them when she stepped up to him. "Hey, Tom." she said, her eyes so sad. "I'm glad to see you're okay," she muttered, her eyes getting glossier and glossier by the second. 

Sadness twisted somewhere inside of him, but hate also lurked somewhere inside as well. Seeing her fed his fire and calmed him at the same time. "You too." Was all he said. 

"Where'd you go?" she asked. 

"What do you mean, 'where'd we go?'" Thomas asked, confused. 

She stared at him for a few seconds. "We've got a lot to talk about." 

Thomas squinted. "What are you up to now?" 

"I'm not..." she sighed, "There's obviously been some miscommunication. Look, most of our group was captured by bounty hunters yesterday. They've probably been taken back and sold back to WICKED. Including Frypan... I'm sorry." 

Thomas' eyes fell, sadness pinching him. He thought about the cook and the way he had always been there, usually supporting Thomas for whatever stupid thing he was doing next. He sucked in a gulp of air, willing the sadness down. He couldn't take much more of this, he couldn't lose another friend. Minho made some sharp comment at Teresa when he realized Thomas trying to deal with this, which Teresa ignored. "Please, Tom. Come talk to me in private." 

Thomas didn't want to, yet he did. He hoped there was something she could say to smooth things over somehow, and fix everything. But the rational side of him knew better- all she was probably going to do was give him some "WICKED is good" speech, and he really wasn't in the mood. In the end he caved and decided to at least hear her out, and the two of them disappeared to a couple chairs in the corner of the building. 

 

 

"So," Teresa said. 

"So." Thomas repeated. 

"Where should we start?" 

"I don't know, this was your idea. If you don't have anything to say, I can go." Thomas snapped. 

Teresa sighed. "Maybe we could start with you giving me the benefit of the doubt and quit acting like a jerk. Yeah, I get it, I did bad things to you- but I did them for you. They were going to kill you otherwise and I couldn't.... I had no choice, okay? Just. Talk to me like a regular person." 

"Fine. But you left me behind at WICKED, which really proved-" 

"Tom!" she yelled as if she had been slapped. "What are you talking about?! We didn't leave you, you left us!" 

Thomas could feel his hatred for her growing by the second. "Again, Teresa? You really think I'm that stupid, that I'd fall for that?" 

"All we heard at the complex was about how you, Newt, and Minho escaped somewhere into the forest. I was hoping to find you, but we couldn't and figured you had no choice but to head to civilization without us. That's why I was so happy to see you alive!" she said, sounding shocked the entire time. 

Thomas scoffed. "How do you expect me to believe that? You probably knew all about how Rat Man tried to get me to stay, telling me that they needed me- that I was the Final Candidate." 

Teresa visibly slouched, pain in her eyes. "You just think I'm the most evil person on the planet, don't you?" she didn't give him a chance to answer, though; "If you had gotten your memories back, you'd see I'm the same Teresa I've always been. I did what I had to do to save you in the Scorch, and have been trying to make up for it everyday." 

Thomas' anger was dying down. She was either telling the truth, or was way too good at lying. "How can I believe you, Teresa? How?" 

Her eyes were filling. "I swear to you, I don't know anything about the Final Candidate other than it was developed after I went into the Maze- I have no memory of it. But I did learn that WICKED's not gonna stop these trials. That's why we're here- they're gathering more Immunes to start them all over again." 

Thomas hesitated, he didn't know what to say and he wanted to believe her. She continued, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I used to think that there was a cure and they needed you to get it. But with my memories back now, I know it's different. They're never going to stop. Nothing's going to change."

Thomas believed her. She tried to press him to see if he had hoped to stop WICKED, but he didn't feel like there was much to say at this point. It was pointless now. "Well," she said, "if we do get the chance to do something, I hope you'd trust me and let me work with you." 

He had to be careful, this could very well be another trick. "We'll see." Was all he said. 

She frowned. "You're never going to trust me again, are you?" 

"We'll see." 

"One more thing." she said, sounding almost careful about it. 

"What is it?" he asked, suspiciously. 

She frowned deeply and looked around one last time. Then right back at Thomas, "Where's Newt?" 

Thomas' breath hitched and he looked down. Teresa quickly wiped away tears. "He can't be. Not Newt, he can't be dead..." 

"He's not." Thomas blurted, looking up at her. 

Apparently she saw the sadness in his eyes, because she mirrored it and placed a hand over her mouth. She quickly regained control, "Oh Thomas," was all she muttered. 

Thomas watched her, the genuine sadness on her face. She was mourning him, too. And it was sincere. He thought about opening up to her, letting himself break, leaning on her again- like he wouldn't have hesitated to do before. But he stopped himself; not yet. Not now. 

He nodded slightly and stood, wiping his hands on his clothes for no reason, reigning his emotions back in, letting out a shuttering sigh. He didn't bid her a farewell, but he heard her begin to cry as he walked away. And he wished, God he wished, that things had gone differently for them, so that he could comfort his best friend in this time of misery, so they could mourn Newt together and not apart. 

But he didn't know if he could ever be there for her again. 

'Not yet', he thought to himself. 'Just not yet.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did a little speeding up of this chapter, but I thought the whole interaction with Teresa was too important to rush through. And I managed to throw a little tragic Newtmas in there, so all is well ;)


	30. Chapter Forty-Five/Forty-Six/Forty-Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm feeling wide awake despite the time, so here's another one :D Even tacked another chapter on there for you guys :)))
> 
> Please do enjoy, lovlies <3 
> 
> ***I do NOT own The Death Cure or any of the characters!***

When he made it back to the group, Minho of course was grumpy about the whole thing. 

Thomas filled him in the details over their conversation- leaving out the part about Newt- and Minho of course, wasn't happy or convinced. He just told Thomas he shouldn't had gone. And he was probably right. 

Three guards entered the room, one with a Launcher and a gun. Minho made a remark about how he was the only one armed and that he could probably take him. Thomas' body buzzed with excitement, but at the same time, he warned Minho not to do anything stupid. He knew Minho was going to, though. His body ready to have something happen. 

When the guards came by to give them water and bread, Thomas accepted while Minho refused. The guards didn't care and turned their backs to Minho while they moved on; that was their mistake. 

Minho was on him in a second, knocking the Launcher from his hands and getting him on the ground, working on getting the pistol out of his hand. And Minho wasn't alone; everything erupted into movement. The guards were taken down by other people almost instantly, dragged over to tie up with the other one Minho had subdued and knocked the pistol away from. 

Thomas hadn't even had a chance to stand up, it all happened so fast. But he needed to get to work. He grabbed the pistol and walked over, demanding information. The others had a different idea; just kill them and leave. Suddenly, he was dealing with a mob, and if he wanted answers, he'd have to work fast. 

Thomas knelt beside the now-sitting, bloody-faced guy Minho had beat up and calmly placed the pistol to the temple of the man's hand. "You've got to the count of three to tell me what WICKED wants with us this time. One." 

"WICKED? We're not with WICKED!" The man said without hesitation. 

"You're lying. Two." Thomas went on calmly. And he wouldn't hesitate to shoot this man, either. At this point, nothing was going to stop him, and if he had to kill a few people to get his hands around WICKED's necks and make them pay for what they let happen to Newt, so be it. 

"No I swear! This has nothing do with them!" he said frantically. 

"Oh yeah? Then who are you working for?" Thomas spat, getting ready to pull the trigger if he wasn't satisfied with this guy's answer. 

The man briefly looked at his friend, unsure, but thought better of it and looked back at Thomas. "The Right Arm." 

 

 

Thomas had to admit, that one caught him off guard. 

"What do you mean you work for the Right Arm?" he asked, more confused than he could describe. 

"What do you mean what do I mean?" the man said, despite the gun at his head. "I work for the Right Arm. What's there not to understand?" 

Thomas temporarily removed the gun from the man's head and sat back. "Then why are you capturing Munies?" 

"Because we want to, you don't need to know more than that." The man spat, though he was still eyeing the lowered weapon in Thomas' hands. 

"Shoot him and move on to the next one!" Someone called from the crowd. 

Thomas had the barrel of the gun right back at the man's head. "You're awfully brave considering I've got the gun. I'm going to count to three one more time; tell my why the Right Arm wants Munies or I'm just going to have to assume you're lying. One." 

"You know I ain't lying, kid." 

"Two." 

"You ain't gonna kill me. I can see it in your eyes." 

Thomas went to squeeze the trigger, but it was like some force was stopping him. But he knew it was himself. Now that he had to, he couldn't do it. 'Of course I can't kill a stranger,' Thomas thought, kind of scared when he thought about how ready and willing he was not even ten minutes earlier. He took this as a good sign and one he should build off of; he didn't want to succumb to the darkness of his misery and become some monster. 

Newt would never want that for him. 

Thomas sighed and pulled the gun away. "If you work for the Right Arm, then we're on the same side. Just tell us what's going on." 

Slowly, these people relaxed. "If you want answers, you're going to have to ask our boss. Honest, we don't know anything." 

Brenda took a step forward with the Launcher. "And how do we find this boss of yours?" 

"I have no idea," the man answered without missing a beat. 

Minho growled and snatched the gun away from Thomas. "Fine, we won't kill you, but don't think I won't hurt you." he said menacingly, pointing the gun at the man's foot. 

"I told you, I don't know anything!" 

Minho's eyes went stone cold, so much so it startled Thomas. "Fine," he answered and fired the gun without a second of hestiation. 

The man wailed and grabbed his foot in agony. Minho had shot him right in the pinkie toe- that toe and that entire section of shoe missing. All that was left in its place was a bleeding wound.The woman rushed to her friend. "How could you do that!?" she yelled at Minho, ripping napkins out of her pockets and pressing them to her friend's foot. 

Thomas had to admit, he was impressed. Thomas didn't know if he could've done it, but they needed answers. Minho had a better grasp on that than most, apparently. Minho wasn't even phased. "While she's working on that poor foot, I suggest someone start giving us some answers. Otherwise we're losing another toe," he said, waving the gun around. 

One of the men threw his hands up, "We swear, we don't know anything, I swear on my mom! But..." He regretted it immediately, his face instantly paling. 

"But what!? Spill it." 

"Nothing." 

"Do we really need to play this game?" Minho asked, moving the gun directly against the man's foot. "I'm done counting." 

"Okay, wait!" the guard shouted, "Maybe we could a couple of you back with us, let you ask the boss yourselves! I don't know how well it would work, but we can try. I don't want my toe shot off for no good reason." 

Minho seemed pleased and stepped back, motioning for the guy to stand up. "Alright, perfect. That wasn't so bad. Now come on, let's go talk head honcho. You, me, and my friends." 

Then there was uproar. Obviously no one wanted to be left behind and nobody was going to be quiet about that. The woman managed to yell over the crowd and quiet them down, telling them that it was safer here. That if they all tried to make it, they'd never make it. They began speaking again, all at once and together, so the woman just turned to Minho and spoke to him, telling him it'd be wiser to not bring too many. "People are getting antsier and more aggressive out there," she explained, and then she said something that made Thomas' blood run cold. 

"And there's Cranks everywhere. Killing everything that moves."

 

 

Thomas didn't have much time to assume the worst; Minho shot the gun at the ceiling to shut everyone up. 

He had the woman repeat what she had told them. She told them all about the dangers, and how it was safer here. And that she didn't know why they were being kept like criminals, but that Right Arm was the good guys. Thomas thought it over, thought who would be best out there with a city full of Cranks, forcing himself not to wonder if Newt was there. 

"Me and Brenda will go," he said. 

"No," Minho said immediately. "Me and you." 

Minho was smart, but not the best around Cranks. His temper was short and he didn't have the subtly needed when dealing with these things. "Brenda and I did really well for ourselves out there in the Scorch," Thomas explained. "We know what to do." 

"No way, man!" Minho said, and Thomas could see hurt on his friend's face. "We shouldn't split up, all four of us should go. Safety in numbers." 

"Minho, we need someone here to watch over things." Thomas said sincerely. This was a room full of people to help take WICKED down, this was their army. "And I hate to say it, but what if something does happen to us? Stay here and make sure our plans don't die. They've got Frypan. And God, the shit they put Newt through-" he stopped himself, knowing that would go on as an endless, emotional rant. "They could have more of us. You wanted me to be Keeper of the Runners. Well, let me do it. It's safer with few of us, and you're a leader. We need you here with them." 

Minho looked him over for a long time, chewing it over. He let out a sigh. "Fine, but if you die, I'm going to be pissed." 

"Good that." Thomas said, and he felt alive. Once upon a time, back in the Maze, Minho believing in him was extraordinary- powerful. Thomas didn't realize it would still be just as powerful. It gave Thomas what he needed to be ready for this, ready for anything. 

***

They went with Lawrence, the guard who had suggested this whole thing. He, Brenda, and Thomas wasted no time, eager to get this done and over with. Thomas tried to deny it, but there was an anxiousness to see if Newt was with these Cranks; and if there was any Newt left. 

Thomas had the pistol in hand, while Brenda had the Launcher. 

They decided, despite that it would be safer to go on foot, to take the van. They needed to get there fast. Slowly and as quietly as he could, Lawrence pushed the door to the outside open. He peeked his head out, looked left and right, then nodded. "It seems clear, let's go." 

They all made a mad dash for it. They managed to get inside, only hearing crazed laughter somewhere far off. Thomas' throat was dry, but he wasn't thirsty. He was a live wire, fear and anxiety in every bit of his body. The locks engaged and Lawrence started the van. Just as it seemed they were going to get out of here alright, there was a loud pop above them.

Someone had jumped on the van.


	31. Chapter Forty-Eight/Forty-Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hlello my lovlies!!! 1,929 hits?!!? You guys are too amazing, I can't even believe this. Almost to two thousand... D: 
> 
> I think you'll notice that I'll be speeding things up for awhile, until our next (painful) encounter with Newt, and then speeding through the rest a bit as well. If you're reading and come up on a spot that's in a weird amount of detail, then there's going to be Newt thoughts and feelings and whatnot. Other than that, most things will be summarized, but I'll try to keep things from getting too choppy. Just bear with me here!! I hope you enjoy anyways :) 
> 
> ***I do NOT own the Death Cure or any of the characters!***

The van shot forward so hard Thomas thought his neck would break. 

But somehow, it didn't. So he swung around and looked behind him. Nothing; whatever was on the van didn't really seem to be planning to get off. Horror gripped him when he turned back around and saw a person slowly creeping down the windshield. 

It was a woman, smiling widely and insanely, slowly punching the windshield over and over. Thomas couldn't even begin to understand how someone could be so far gone. It made him think about how Newt was going to be that way someday. It was exhausting to think about. 

"Can you get her off?" Brenda asked after a moment. 

Lawrence quickly slammed on the breaks, sending her flying. Thomas wanted to close his eyes, but couldn't. She was already getting up. Lawrence got them the Hell out of there, but Thomas never took his eyes off her. Her eyes cleared as they drove out and a little frown found her face, and she looked slightly frightened, as if she had just realized what she had done. 

Thomas had to turn away. Somehow, it was easier seeing them as complete lunatics with no shred of humanity left than it was to see them alternate like that. It made irrationality poison his mind, made him try to convince himself that he could keep Newt with him--that maybe somehow their love could keep him sane, at least most of the time. 

'I could deal with his insanity sometimes,' he thought, 'for him, I could.' 

Obviously, he didn't genuinely think any of those things could work, but the thoughts still bugged at him. Breaking his heart every time. 

They saw them everywhere, scattered about, but they just kept driving. When they got deeper and deeper into the city, Lawrence switched off the headlights. Thomas was on constant alert, but somewhat absent at the same time. Brenda had mentioned how it was only a matter of time before this happened; that the sick had finally outweighed the healthy, and it tipped the scale. To Thomas, Newt would always be the one who tipped the scale. It was like the moment he and the world realized they were going to lose Newt, everything fell apart, like the Earth itself couldn't bear to keep going without Newt. Apparently, Thomas and the Earth had something in common. 

After hitting something metal and making too much noise, it proved to be safer to have the lights on. 

Thomas almost threw up when they came back on; thirty, maybe more, people were just blocking the way. Standing, staring. But instead of attacking, the Cranks parted and let them drive through. Then one waved an arm, gesturing for the van to go through. 

Thomas didn't know what to think of it.

 

 

Much to Thomas' relief, Lawrence gunned it. 

Thomas looked over at them, then quickly away. Every time he saw one of them, he couldn't help but picture Newt among the crowd; cold, insane, haunting. 

They almost made it through unscathed, too. 

Suddenly, there were a couple loud pops and the van jolted, then swerved to the right, hitting and pinning two Cranks between it and the wall. Thomas threw his hand over his mouth at the sound of their agonized screams and looked away. 

Lawrence managed to get the van to screech back a few feet, but Cranks were already pounding on the van from all sides. Lawrence was trying to get them moving, but the wheels just spun without traction. 

"What the hell happened!?" Brenda shouted, looking just as horrified as Thomas. 

"They did something to the van!" he shouted. 

Thomas looked to his right just in time to a see wild-eyed woman, grinning at him, as she raised a shovel over her head and slammed it into the window. The glass didn't give. Thomas began shouting at Lawrence to get them out of there, feeling stupid for walking right into such an obvious trap. 

It only got worse, and Thomas was only gripped with more terror. There were Cranks on the roof, now. And at all the windows, hitting with anything from bats to their own heads. The woman kept hitting the van over and over, and finally on the sixth try, she made a crack. Then another slammed a sledgehammer into the windshield, making a spiderweb crack across it. 

Thomas couldn't have been full of more fear. 'This is it,' he thought, 'I'm going to die without ever honoring Newt in anyway.' He couldn't control his heartbeat, he couldn't breathe, but still he thought about Newt. About how he never did anything to thank Newt for being with him, for always being there. For choosing him. Thomas had just always thought there'd be more time to show Newt how grateful he was for everything. If only there was more time... 

Glass breaking from behind him snapped him out of it. Adrenaline kept him fighting, kept him moving. He scrambled into the backseat and found a snow pick and started attacking the arm that was wiggling through the broken glass. He managed to get it out, but then hands started pulling the rest of the glass away; bloody and determined. It dawned on Thomas that a snow pick wasn't going to do much good at this point. 

Thomas shot at the Cranks trying to get inside. Lawrence announced something about being loose, which Thomas barely caught. A woman's faced appeared in the hole in the van. She tried to shove herself in, but couldn't fit- thankfully, because Thomas didn't want to kill her. The van moved forward, knocking her away from the hole. They stopped again. This time an arm with a knife, and he fired again. 

It only took a couple more lurches, front and back, and then somehow they were fine. The ride was suddenly smooth, whatever they had done had been undone. Thomas simply dropped the gun and laid back, panting. They made it, they really made it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't kill me if there are any grammatical errors, I rushed quite a bit ^^'


	32. Chapter Fifty/Fifty-One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright lovlies, here we go, another update!! 
> 
> It's crazy to think we're only about twenty pages from 250 (Oh God), and only about a hundred until this installment is over!!! Though, then we can pull ourselves together and make ourselves feel better by reading the Death Cure where Newt isn't infected... :'D 
> 
> God knows I'm gonna need it. 
> 
> ***I do NOT own The Death Cure or any of the characters!***

They pulled into a garage, switched off the lights, and came to a stop. 

Upon arriving, Lawrence informed them that somewhere in the darkness, there were probably about twenty guards with about twenty weapons, waiting for them. What a warm welcome. 

Lawrence informed them to stay inside; he'd get out, show them it was him, and then tap on the window for Thomas and Brenda to come out. So as planned, Lawrence got out first, slowly. Very soon, there was a knock on his window that scared the daylights out of him. Slowly, the two of them crept out. Thomas didn't know what to expect, but he did know if he died here, after all that happened back there, he was going to be pretty mad. 

There was a click, then a massive spotlight came to life, blinding Thomas. When he finally managed to get his eyes to adjust to the shrill light, he saw at least a dozen men with various weapons standing all around them, aimed on them. "Is that you Lawrence?" One of the guards called out. 

"Yeah, it's me." 

The man started spitting questions, which Lawrence answered honestly, though when the man asked why Thomas and Brenda wanted to see the boss, the man wouldn't let him answer, instead he asked Thomas. Thomas told them about Gally and about how he wanted to help, but not as a prisoner. The men relented and brought them inside. 

Thomas and Brenda were led through a crappy building. It seemed to have once been nice, but now it was decaying and broken. Not exactly what he was expecting, but he didn't really know what he was expecting either. They were led into what had been a nice conference room, but it was in just as bad of shape as the rest of the place. 

There were only two people seated at the table in the middle of the room. Gally was there, then another, big man beside him. Gally looked tired, but he managed to twist his mangled face into a small smile. He glanced over and looked a little surprised to see Brenda there, it seemed. 

Brenda was in disbelief that this was the headquarters, but then again, so was Thomas. But Thomas really couldn't care less about how pretty the place was. "So which one of you is the boss?" 

"Don't be a slinthead, Vince is in charge," he said, nodding to the man beside him. "And show some respect, he risked his life just because he thinks things should be right in the world." 

Vince grew tired of their chit chat soon enough and demanded to know what they wanted in a big, booming voice. Thomas quickly explained what they had come to find out. After Vince had Gally confirm that they could be trusted, Vince leaned forward and spoke; 

"Boy, this is a look-alike operation and we didn't plan on making a single dime off anybody. We're collecting Immunes to mimic WICKED." 

Thomas definitely hadn't expected to hear that one. "Why in the world would you want to do something like that?" 

"We're going to use them to get inside their headquarters." 

 

 

Thomas thought about it. "Selling" these Immunes in, having WICKED welcome an army right into their headquarters. The simplicity was genius. "This is gonna work," Thomas said, not able to contain the slightest smile. 

Come to find out, apparently they already had a contract to "sell" these kids. Thomas had to ask, though, if Vince thought WICKED could ever actually come up with a cure. What Vince said cleared up all the conflicting feelings he'd been having since the moment he found out Newt was infected; 

"If you believed that for even a second, you wouldn't be standing here in front of me. You wouldn't have escaped and you wouldn't be seeking revenge." 

And much to Thomas' shock, he realized something else from that statement and began speaking it out as he realized it; "I'm not looking for revenge," he said, shocked at how clear everything was to him now. That wasn't about revenge for Newt, it never was. "It's not about bringing them down for what they did to the people I loved... It's about making a world that can honor their deaths. That I would've wanted them to live in with me." His eyes fell as the gravity of everything hit him. "That Chuck and Newt could've been happy in." 

Thomas took a moment to compose himself. He could feel everyone's eyes on him. When he looked back up, Gally looked half shocked and half just sad. Vince stared at him, unreadable, but like he was beginning to form an opinion of Thomas. Thomas could only guess what that was. Brenda reached over and squeezed his hand, and Thomas drew strength from her. Clearing his throat, he continued. "Which is why... I was wondering about what you said about using WICKED's resources for something different, how would we do it? How much do you know about what they're doing?" 

Of course, he was shot down. Sort of. Vince told him that they had just told them a secret they've been guarding with their lives, and that Thomas just needed to trust them back for awhile. He apologized for the rough treatment, as well. Though in return, Thomas needed to give some information. 

So he told them about how WICKED thought they were close to reaching the cure, that they were almost there. Vince didn't ask about it further. 

Thomas found out a couple more things; that most of the Right Arm wasn't Immune, Vince himself wasn't even Immune. And that there were only a couple hundred members still dedicated to the cause. They talked for awhile, and Thomas couldn't get enough. Couldn't shake the feeling he was finally getting somewhere. He wished Newt could've been there, could've seen this, could've shared this excitement. He wished that every second of every day, but today was exceptionally hard to get through without him. 

After some talking, Thomas finally pried some interesting information out of him. 

They didn't have a plan to walk in, guns blazing in the hands of inexperience and untrained people. Oh no, they had something much more useful. Much more effective. 

They had a plan to make it so WICKED couldn't use any of their weapons.


	33. Chapter Fifty-Two/Fifty-Three/Fifty-Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well it's only about 9:30 here lovlies, so why not post another? x3 
> 
> I'm getting very eager for Newt's... Well, ya know. I know that sounds horrible, but I've been thinking about how I was going to write this part for a long time, and hopefully, if I don't suck too much (which I probably will), it might actually be beautifully tragic and painful. Let's see what I can do to make us fangirls and fanboys suffer like we love/hate to do <3 
> 
> I'm also getting very eager for the happy (Well, just less traumatically painful) Death Cure! I haven't really planned many things out, so this is gonna be an interesting ride for all of us <3 
> 
> ***I do NOT own The Death Cure or any of the characters!***

Charlotte Chiswell. 

She was going to be how they disabled WICKED's weapons. Apparently she had been an engineer for weapons- more specifically, the ones that WICKED uses. She was the one who was going to completely render their weapons useless. Apparently she has a small device that will need to be planted in the building that will active- or rather, deactivate- a common chip used in all their weapons. The device would need a couple hours to get started and The Right Arm wouldn't have any weapons either, but it would be worth it. It was a common playing ground. It was a start. 

Vince explained that it'd be a hand-to-hand brawl, something those WICKED guards were probably pretty inexperienced with by now. Thomas couldn't help but think about the way they had fought with nothing but spears and other various melee weapons when they battled through the Maze against the Grievers. It felt like a lifetime ago, but in reality, it wasn't long ago. They could still do it. They could win this. 

Then, Thomas got the plan: 

They were going to bring about three Bergs, bring only eighty people in- the strongest. They were going to hand over the Immunes to their guy on the inside, plant the device, and then when it did its thing, they'd blow a hole in the wall and bring everyone else in. They'd win or they'd die trying. 

They planned to move out in a couple days, and suddenly it all felt too real. 

"One more thing," Vince said, looking at Thomas. "We could have our Immunes bring in and plant the device, certainly, just as planned. But it'd be a lot easier if it was already in place when we got there." 

Thomas caught on quickly. "And that's where I come in." 

Vince smiled. "Yes. That's where you come in." 

 

 

Thomas had no objections, no irrational fears, nothing. This was it after all, this is what he could do for Newt. "You can drop me off a few miles away and I'll hike in. They'll welcome me back. Just show me how to use the device." 

Vince smiled genuinely. "I'll have Charlotte show you herself." 

Just like that, an even sooner plan was thrown together; They were going to prep Thomas on the device, send him in, then follow with the Immunes a couple hours later to dilute any suspicion. 

And as Thomas was taken to meet Charlotte, he kept the imposing anxiety down. He knew he had to do this, he wanted to. The risk was just too worth it. He wondered if Newt would've been proud of him. 

***

Charlotte was small and petite, but she wasted no time. 

She was all business. She taught Thomas the ins and out of the device. It fit in his backpack, along with extra clothes and food and water they provided him with so he wouldn't freeze on his long, cold hike. 

The only bothersome part of the plan at this point was getting to the hangar so they could get Thomas to WICKED. It meant another van trip through the city. Thomas dreaded going back out there, but dawn was beginning to touch the skies so that made him feel a little better about it. 

As Thomas was preparing last-minute supplies for the trip, Brenda found him. He was happy to see her, after everything that had happened to him, she had been there and she had been his friend. He felt a little odd saying it after all that time with Teresa, but she was his best friend now. 

He made a deal with her not to get killed. 

And when they hugged, she held on just a little too tight, a little too long. Thomas pulled away quickly, making sure not to look at her. He didn't want to treat her coldly, but he also didn't want her thinking that now that Newt was out of the picture, there could be something more for them. 

Thomas brushed it off, telling himself he was being over-paranoid and that she had no more feelings for him. 

He still didn't look her in the eye as they spoke, though. 

 

 

Thankfully, they got a different van. 

Lawrence and their pilot seemed to be in a bad mood, having to do this, and Thomas could imagine why. But he had to admit, the early sunlight sparkling off the buildings gave him a false sense of calmness and safety. 

And things went smoothly for a long time. They made it through the heart of the city, and onto a long stretch of highway. They were only an hour away from the hangar. But along the way, Lawrence slowed. "What in the world...?" he muttered. 

Thomas craned his head toward the window, seeing three cars just driving in circles on the road. Lawrence thought it best to just try and get through and stepped on the gas. As they got closer, Thomas could see people on the road, throwing debris at each other, making noise, and fighting over various things. Not far off, the cars were spinning and driving and crashing into each other. Still, Lawrence didn't slow. 

The pilot eyed him. "What are you doing?"

"I'm going through," he said, never taking his eyes away from the road. 

"You'll get us killed!" she shouted. 

"We'll be fine, just shut up!" 

As they got even closer to the crowd in the road, Thomas could see they were ripping open garbage bags; taking old food, spoiled meat, and whatever else they could eat but probably shouldn't. But not one Crank got to hold something in their hands for long before another stole it away. Screeching stole Thomas' attention away, seeing that the cars had stopped and were pointed at the oncoming van. 

Lawrence still didn't slow, just made a turn towards the larger gap between two cars. The third, farthest one suddenly sped out at him. "Hold on!" Lawrence screamed, gunning it even more. 

Thomas gripped the seat and he watched in terror as the car came for them, then looked at the gap. They weren't going to make it. 

And they didn't. 

The car hit their middle, left area. Thomas' body was swung that way when the van took the impact, he hit his head on something and heard glass crunch. Glass was flying in all directions as the van spun in uncontrollable circles. Thomas couldn't think straight, or see straight, so he just held onto his seat, sank into it, and waited for whatever was going to happen next to happen. 

It all stopped when the van hit a cement wall. Thomas had ended up on the floor, battered and feeling pain all over. But it was all just aches, he was fine. He glanced at the pilot and Lawrence, they were both fine. Thomas didn't have to look at the window to know the cars weren't going to bother them anymore, he could hear their engines fading away. 

But then, when he did look out the window, the strangest thing happened. 

He saw a banged-up, scrawny Crank staring at him from about twenty feet away. It only took him a second to see who it was, and when he did, the entirety of his soul and heart reacted all at once, physically taking his breath away and striking him with a hammer of emotion. 

It was his lover, his everything. 

It was Newt.


	34. Chapter Fifty-Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovlies! We went up another 30 hits today, that's incredible! 
> 
> And here I am, curled up in a blanket, with snacks from my Japan Crate, a soda, and some Hot Cheetos and completely ready to deal with the feels (a lie I constantly tell myself) <3 
> 
> Please do enjoy!! 
> 
> ***I do NOT own The Death Cure or any of the characters!***

It broke Thomas' heart to see him like this. 

Patches of his hair were missing, leaving red welts in their place. He somehow was even thinner than before, his shirt barely hanging on to him- and definitely not in one piece. He was covered in bruises and blood and dirt. It seemed so unreal. There was no way his bright-eyed, soft-skinned, beautiful Newt had been reverted to this. An unstable frame of insanity; a dark, haunting epitome of madness. 

But apparently he was still managing to hang on somehow, because those nightmares of eyes stared at Thomas unceasingly with the slightest light of recognition. 

Thomas' world took a shift when the van started moving. Newt was only a feet away and even though Thomas knew Newt was barely there, he couldn't just very well leave him there. "Stop!" Thomas shouted, sounding almost hysterical. 

"What, why?!" Lawrence snapped, barely even slowing. 

"I said stop the van!" Thomas screamed, he couldn't leave him. He just couldn't. 

Lawrence did as told, trying to demand answers. Thomas kicked the door open and started out, being stopped when Lawrence grabbed him by the shirt and yanked back inside. "What are you doing?!" 

Thomas wouldn't let anything stop him now. He pulled out the gun, pointing it at Lawrence. "Let go of me. Let go of me!" he screamed. Lawrence was wasting precious time. 

Obviously, Lawrence let go, throwing his hands up in the air. "Hey now, kid. Calm down. What's wrong with you?" 

"My boyfriend," Thomas said, "he's out there. I just... I want to see if he's okay. If something bad happens, I'll get back here in a hurry. Just be ready when I get back." 

"You think that's still your boyfriend?" The pilot scoffed coldly. "All those Cranks are way past the Gone. Can't you see? They're animals now. Worse than animals." 

Thomas glared at her, feeling a sudden desire to actually use this gun. "It'll be a short goodbye then, won't it?" he snapped, then turned back to Lawrence. "Just cover me if I need it," he said quickly before sprinting out of the van. 

When Thomas was actually out in the open, he slowed quickly. He wasn't sure how to approach this. He wanted to run to him and wrap him in his arms and remind him how much he loved him, but something told him that wasn't an option. Instead, he walked slowly, shoving the gun back into his jeans. Newt was off, away from the group, by himself. He only staggered lightly as Thomas approached, but made no move to approach him. 

Thomas stopped half way, watching him, swaying slightly as he stared at Thomas. He was an animal; that was the only thing Thomas could think about when he looked at those eyes. They were dark and haunting and carnivorous. He was tainted, his mind poisoned. It shocked Thomas how quickly the sickness had taken him. 

"Newt. Hey, it's me. It's Thomas. Do you remember me? I love you," he called desperately. 

A sudden clarity washed over Newt's eyes so suddenly it almost startled Thomas. He seemed to readjust his gaze on Thomas before speaking. "I bloody remember you, Tommy. I remember you showing up at the Palace. Rubbin' it my face that you ignored my note. I can't go completely crazy in a few days." 

Thomas' heart physically hurt. Somehow it hurt worse than it had the past couple days, and God, how Thomas wondered how that was even possible. Even imaginable. 

"Then why are you here? With... Them?" he asked, nodding over to the group of Cranks. 

Newt's eyes dragged to the group. "It comes and goes. Sometimes I can think clearly, sometimes I have no idea where I am or what I'm doing, but I just do it. But at the end of the day, they're a group. If I was alone out here, I wouldn't stand a chance." He brought his eyes back to Thomas and Thomas found himself wanting to move to him. But he thought better of it. 

"Please come with me this time," Thomas begged. "Please, Newt. I'll keep you safe like I used to, I'll take care of y-" 

Newt busted out laughing, his head twitching oddly a couple of times. "Go away, Tommy. Just get away from me." 

"Newt, please!" Thomas persisted, taking a step forward. "Please, I'll do anything-" 

Suddenly, Newt snapped and Thomas had never seen him so angry. "Anything!? You'd do anything!? Just shut up, you shuck traitor! Didn't you read my note? You couldn't do one lousy thing for me? Gotta be a hero, like always. I hate you! I've always hated you!" 

Thomas could feel his heart bleeding, but he bit back the pain. 'He doesn't mean it, of course he doesn't mean it.' 

"It was all your fault!" Newt continued, his face dark red and spittle flying. His eyes weren't clear anymore. "You could've stopped when the first Creators died! You could've found a way, but no, you kept it going, cause you had to save the world!" 

Newt's hand clenched into tight fists and he started taking lumbering steps forward, his head twitching and turning like something right out of a nightmare. 

"I'm gonna blast him, move!" Lawrence shouted. 

"No!" Thomas screamed, shrill and panicked. He moved even more in the way to protect Newt from a potential blast. "Don't! It's just me and him! Let us handle this!" Thomas turned on his heels to face Newt, a hand still out in Lawrence's direction, trying to assure he did nothing. "Newt, come on, listen to me. I know you're in there, enough to hear me out. Please."

"I hate you, Tommy!" he shouted, only a couple feet away. Thomas could feel fear inside him, but he held his ground. He wouldn't do it, he wouldn't let himself be afraid of Newt. Not Newt. "I hate you I hate you I hate you! After everything I did for you, after the way I felt about you! You can't even do one thing for me!? I can't look at your ugly shuck face!" 

Thomas reached out a hand to Newt, "Newt, please come with me. Give this a chance, please." 

Newt screamed and rushed forward. Thomas heard the Launcher go off and watched in terror as that deadly bolt neared Newt. When he was close enough, Thomas basically pulled Newt onto him as Newt charged so he wouldn't be hit by the Launcher. Much to Thomas' relief, it missed. When Thomas hit the pavement, he found himself gasping for air. 

Newt sat on him, pinning him. By instinct, nothing more, Thomas curled his fingers around the gun. "I should claw your eyes out," Newt spat. "Teach you a lesson. Heh, what'd you expect? A bloody hug? Maybe a kiss, huh? A nice long talk under the stars about us?" Newt scoffed, squeezing Thomas' shoulders painfully. "Wanna know why I have this limp, Tommy? Wanna know what really happened?" 

Thomas was terrified, but he stayed still, tried to stay calm, assuring himself this was Newt, and that Newt could never hurt him. "What happened?" he asked, slow and unsure.

"I tried to kill myself in the Maze. Climbed half way up one of those walls and jumped right back down. Alby found me before the Doors closed, rescued me. I didn't want to be rescued- I hated that place. Every second of every day and it was all because of you!" 

Thomas laid there, in shock. He wanted to hold him, he wanted to wish his pain and sickness away. He wished he had known sooner, he would've never let Newt go. Never. 

While Thomas was hurting for Newt and the image of what he had done to himself, Newt suddenly grabbed Thomas' wrist- the one holding the gun- and twisted it up to his head, pressing it against his forehead. "Now make amends! Kill me before I become a monster! I trusted you with and no one else with that note, now do it!" he shouted, but despite the rage, he was weakening. Tears began filling his eyes, slowly spilling down his face, leaving stains down his face through the dirt and blood. But his hand didn't shake, not even once.

Thomas was horrified, "Newt, I can't." 

"Do it!" 

"I can't!" Thomas shouted louder. "I love you, Newt, I can't do it!" He couldn't possibly comprehend how Newt could expect this of him. 

"Kill me or I'll kill you," he said halfheartedly, "Kill me!!" 

"Newt..." Thomas murmured, tears filling his own eyes. 

Newt let out a strangled sob and a gasp, his body racking with sobs. "Kill me before I become one of them." 

"I can't!" 

"Kill me!!" Newt screamed at the top of his lungs. And then suddenly, Newt was back. It was his Newt. He could see the clarity in his eyes. Even more, he could see the spark. THE spark. The one he never thought he'd seen again; and he could see it when Newt sprinted across the Glade with him in the early morning, when he snuck away from Alby's watchful eye to lay with Thomas- the rebellion sparkling in his eyes even brighter than the stars on that night, he could see it in the dim light alone in the Homestead; just the two of them and young love and time frozen just for them. 

Thomas was sobbing out loud without even realizing. 

Newt joined him, clutching Thomas' wrist with both hands, eyes screwed shot as he kept leaning against the barrel of the gun, sobbing loudly. "Please, Tommy, please." 

Thomas yanked his wrist away and pulled Newt down against him and hugged him, tighter than he ever had before. He pressed Newt against him, memorizing the way their bodies fit together- they had always done so so perfectly. He could feel Newt's racing heart against his chest and made himself engrave it into his soul. "Oh Newt," he sobbed, placing the gun against the side of Newt's head. "God, I love you so much." 

Newt hiccuped and cried into his chest, clinging to Thomas. "I love you too, Tommy. So much, so much more than I ever told you." 

Thomas let out a pathetic whimper, "I want to thank you, for everything. For being in my life, Newt, thank you- I love you so much. And I will never stop missing you," he whimpered, finger shaking on the trigger. 

"Don't thank me, Tommy," he sniffled, "just remember me how I was before this. If you can do that for me, please... I want you to think of me and remember how much I love you. It's time, Tommy. I love you," he said, pulling away just enough to look at him. 

Thomas took his time, staring deeply into those eyes one more time. Then he pressed Newt against him again. "I'll miss you," he whispered against Newt's forehead, "until I see you again. I love you." 

And with that, gun nestled against the side of Newt's temple, Thomas pulled the trigger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only one chapter; I hope this doesn't sound conceded, but I made myself cry... (Especially since I've been rereading the other two and reliving all their moments together). I'll post another update after this, but I gotta take a breather. The feels are so strong, it's a bittersweet experience being a shipper... XD


	35. Chapter Fifty-Six/Fifty-Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I ended up falling asleep before posting another chapter, so sorry about that lovlies!!
> 
> But here we are! It happened! Now poor Thomas has got to deal with it. I will be returning to speeding up the chapters, probably by quite a bit now that my precious baby is gone ;3; 
> 
> Please do enjoy :) 
> 
> ***I do NOT own The Death Cure or any of the characters!***

Thomas held onto him, even when his body jerked violently to the side.

Thomas just laid there, holding him, staring up at the sky. He couldn't find the strength to look down at him. Not when he knew what he'd see. But he knew he had to leave, that the other Cranks would be on him in no time now. Thomas stood, lifting Newt with him, holding him bridal style. He could feel Newt's head and limbs just dangling lifelessly. He didn't know what to do, he couldn't just leave him there. 

He looked around briefly, then decided he'd just move him as far away from the highway as possible. He brought him right up the edge of it and set him down. His vision was blurred with tears and his hands wouldn't stop shaking, but he still reached down and gave Newt's hand a squeeze before turning around. He took in a deep breath and he ran as fast as he could, he needed to get away from there. Away from what he had done. From what he'd lost. 

The moment Thomas was in the van, it was moving. 

And Thomas knew he shouldn't have, but he still looked over at Newt's corpse- just a little shape of a person in the distance; so small, so tiny. But even with the distance, he could see the strikingly red wound on the temple of his head. Thomas turned away. 

As they drove, Thomas set into a daze. He killed him. He really killed him. He killed his everything, stole away the most precious life of the most precious person. 'It was what he wanted,' Thomas mentally assured himself, 'he begged you for it, he's happier now.' 

But as Thomas' entire body trembled and was overtaken with a cold Thomas had never felt before, his heart being crushed at the weight of his sin, he still muttered; "What have I done?" 

***

The entire trip was a blur. 

Thomas remembered it, but not really. It all just felt like autopilot- even his mind. He didn't think about anything specific, there was just a fog of thoughts around his mind. He couldn't grab onto a single one. 

When they made it to the hangar, Thomas simply followed orders. He didn't speak, he didn't protest, he didn't even think about doing anything else. He was numb all over, except for the nagging pain in his heart. He couldn't even shut down without feeling the affects of what he had done. 

And he continued to be stuck on this lifeless loop as he boarded the Berg, as he settled down inside, and as they took off. Thomas tried to think about what he was doing, that he was marching back to WICKED after everything they had gone through to escape. After everything Thomas had done to try and save Newt from there. But he couldn't find the will to care about himself. Whatever happened, happened. 

Now that he was alone, he did start to think. And of all the things he could've seen, he saw Chuck. Gasping, lifeless, bleeding. He thought about the way he used to tease Thomas, every step of the way. He knew Thomas' feelings before Thomas had. He was always there, he always right there. Thomas wondered if Chuck was mourning for him, if he had been watching him all this time. He wondered if Chuck was disappointed; if he thought Thomas should've forced Newt to come with him. He wondered what Chuck would say if he was still here, but Thomas couldn't even begin to guess. He just wished with all he had that Chuck could've been sitting next to him right now, saying whatever it is he would say. 

Of course, he thought of Newt. But only Newt's death this time. Which Thomas figured was his own mind protecting him from breaking forever; Thomas doubted his heart could handle thinking about what he'd lost again. Thomas could still feel Newt's head jerking aside, and could still feel the way his trembling body- and his precious heartbeat- just stopped all at once, so suddenly. So abrupt. 

Thomas pushed the thoughts away. He laid down and willed sleep to come and take his mind away from this. It made him wait, but eventually, it came. 

***

When Lawrence awoke him, he at least felt alive again. Like he could make his own decisions instead of just letting his body go through the motions. They were only minutes away, and Thomas had to admit, he was eager to get moving. The misery was so strong and it made him feel like his body was cancerous, but he needed to keep moving, to keep it at bay. 

"How long will I have to walk when I get there?" he asked, surprised to hear himself talk. Another good sign, he supposed. 

It was only a few miles. Lawrence was trying to keep a light mood with lame jokes, but Thomas wasn't exactly in a laughing mood. Though, Lawrence did tell him there wouldn't be any Cranks now- too cold- so that was good. Thomas could feel the dangerous claws of misery trying to pull him back into the black pit of sadness he was in yesterday, but he fought it. He didn't want to be trapped like that again, even if the pain was still just as bad.

In an attempt to wash some of the misery away, he went and got in the shower. 

***

He said his goodbyes to Lawrence, hoping for a smile, a nudge, a fake laugh- anything, but he got nothing other than a kind tone as he wished Thomas luck. Thomas walked down, hopping into fresh snow. All the while, he was numbing again. 

He had killed Newt. 

He had shot his lover right in the head. 

 

 

The forest felt fresh. 

Crisp and cool. He felt like he was in a new world, somewhere untouched by the disease. He wished Newt could've been here the entire time. But at the same time, he felt so lucky, not many people probably ever got to see this anymore. 'Ya seeing this, guys?' he thought, referring to Newt and Chuck- wondering and hoping they really could. Either way, he'd enjoy it extra- on Chuck and Newt's behalf. 

Thomas started moving, planning to get there as soon as possible. When he stepped into the thick of the forest, down the direction Lawrence had indicated, the pleasant smell of pine washed over him, and he took in a big breath of it. With the pleasant smells and fresh air of the undisturbed forest, he was able to let his mind go blissfully blank. 

***

The hike was great. He felt so much better than he had since Newt went to the Palace. The insects and sounds and wonderful smells were a shock to his senses, and he felt cleansed. He couldn't believe a place like the Scorch and a disease like the Flare and people like WICKED could exist on the same planet as this place. 

After about an hour, he was out of the forest, onto barren, craggy, brown earth. There was a cliff in the distance, an ocean past that. And between them, WICKED's headquarters. 

The place was huge- not a surprise. He started off across the new terrain, sure that WICKED's security had spotted him already. Just on cue, he heard the famialiar sounds of a beetle blade. He waved, then kept walking. 

He was surprised no one had come to greet him yet as he walked along their pathway towards the entrance. A couple more beetle blades had joined him, and he turned when he heard the rumbling of a storm. He remembered the horrible lightning storm in the Scorch and kept moving, hoping the weather wasn't as bad here. 

A painful- and almost nostalgic-set of memories took him. When they had ended up here after their escape from the Maze, that Flare-infested woman that had attacked him and Newt. He looked over and saw a bus parking lot, no doubt that had been where it happened. And now, with all that, he still stood here at WICKED's door. And of all the things he could've done in that moment, he reached out and knocked. 

The moment he did, locks disengaged. And there was Janson- Rat Man. "I knew you'd come back after I warned you about your little boyfriend," he said, smiling, "no one believed me, but I knew you'd see why we needed the cure. I'm so glad you made the right choice." 

Thomas hated hearing someone so slow say Newt's name, he didn't deserve to. But Thomas played the part. "Yeah. Now let's just get on with it." 

"Sounds like an excellent idea," he said, bowing slightly and stepping aside. "After you." 

A chill ran up Thomas' spine and he had to imagine Newt next to him to give himself strength. Then he did something he thought he'd never do. 

He walked past Right Man, right into WICKED's headquarters.


	36. Chapter Fifty-Eight/Fifty-Nine/Chapter Sixty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another update guys! I've been rereading my version of the Scorch Trials and it's just been so long since the boys have been able to struggle through hardships together; I can't wait for Death Cure with a happy ending 3 
> 
> Only ten more hits until 2,000!! That's incredible, thank you guys so much :D 
> 
> ***I do NOT own The Death Cure or any of the characters!***

Janson wasted no time in urging Thomas towards his office. 

Every step felt like a death sentence; the device weighing heavily on his mind. He needed to get it activated to bring these people down, the people who knowingly sent Newt into the Scorch after torturing him in the Maze for years. 

Thomas supposed maybe, now, this was a little bit about revenge. 

"I really need to use the bathroom first," Thomas said as casually as possible. 

Janson led the way, "I'll wait out here." he said with a nod. 

Thomas returned and headed inside. He moved fast. He spent some time looking around for a good hiding spot, knowing Newt would've been better at finding one. He looked at the cabinet, used for storing toiletries, and discovered that the top of it had a lip just big enough for him to put the device behind it and have it go unnoticed. He flushed the toilet and quickly got to work on activating the device. He turned the sink on as he put the little device up there snuggly, then pressed the hand dryer and used that time to calm down. 

When he came back out, Janson nodded to him. "All finished?" 

"All finished," Thomas said with a nod. 

Thomas questioned Janson about the Chancellor, about how he was so sure that Thomas was the key to the cure. Janson smiled back at him. "I believe it will. With every ounce of my being, I know this will work. And you'll get the credit you deserve." 

He thought about Newt. 

"I don't want any credit." 

When they made it to Janson's office, there were already two people inside. A woman in a black pantsuit with long, red hair and glasses. And a bald man in scrubs. "These are my associates." 

Immediately after Thomas took a seat and was introduced to these people, he was talking. "Why am I the Final Candidate?" 

Janson cleared his throat and moved somethings busily about the desk. "It came down to you and Teresa after the other- pardon the term- subjects were excluded. But she followed orders too well. Your freethinking is exactly what we needed." 

'Played to the end', Thomas thought bitterly. Even when he was being rebellious, he was doing what they wanted. He couldn't have been more furious. 

"Let's just get this over with," Thomas snapped, trying to stay calm, but he was just so mad. 

"Patience, please." Janson said, "this is a very delicate operation. One mishap could render the results useless." 

Thomas couldn't have cared less. But Janson mention one more thing that they needed from him. Everyone in the room had a grave look on their face, and suddenly Thomas was anxious to know and not know at the same time. 

"Thomas, we need your brain." 

 

 

Thomas' nerves were a live-wire. He needed the Right Arm to get there, and he needed them to get there fast. He wouldn't, he couldn't, die now. He needed to carry on Newt's memory, Chuck's memory. He needed to relish in whatever world there'd be after WICKED for all of them. No one else would do if not him. 

"My brain?" Thomas repeated, half-stalling, half-confused. 

The man in the scrubs explained the 'why' of it, not that Thomas really needed it. Or cared about it. And while Thomas sat in silence, the scientists waited patiently. But Thomas needed to get his bearing. Before, everything that he had taken on, he had such hope to survive. He had Newt's hand in his and there was always a goal they needed to get to, someway to be rescued. 

But this was different. 

He was alone in this, and there was no waiting for rescuers or getting to a safe haven. This would be it. If the Right Arm didn't make it in time, there was nothing he could do. And he'd be dead, actually dead. 

They broke him out of his silence and they explained it to him. How they needed to understand the physical side as well. They explained it to him, he'd have to be alive, but not awake. They'd heavily sedate him and he'd never feel a thing. But he wouldn't recover. All Thomas had to say was; "And what if it doesn't work?" 

Thomas hated to admit it, but he thought of Newt. And maybe he could save people, save people from losing their minds and save those they love from being dead inside, just like Thomas. 

"If it didn't work then... We'd try again, but we have every confidence-" 

"Do you?" Thomas suddenly snapped. "Cause you've been buying new Immunes to start all this crap over again." 

No one answered for a long time, but eventually Janson assured him they'd do whatever it would take to get a cure. Thomas scoffed. "Why not just tie me down and rip my brain out?" 

"Because you're our Final Candidate. We're trying to show you the respect you deserve. We want you to make this choice on your own." 

The woman continued. "Exactly. And don't think we take this lightly. We understand what we're asking, and how big of a sacrifice it is. That being said, will you dedicate your brain to science? Potentially save humanity?" 

The Right Arm was coming. But he saw Newt again. 

"Do you need a moment?" 

"I need to be alone, please." Thomas said. For once, he wanted this. He wanted this more than anything. All he could see was Newt and all he wanted was to cure the world of that. 

The bald man assured him, once again, he wouldn't feel an ounce of pain. 

"I just... Need some time to be alone before we start," he muttered. 

Janson stood. "Fair enough. We'll get you in a private room for awhile, but keep in mind, we do need to get started quickly." 

Thomas leaned forward and stared at the floor. It all seemed foolish now; the plan he had with the Right Arm. Even it worked, even he wanted it to, they'd never make it in time now. Maybe that was for the best. Maybe this was for the best. 

The woman placed a soft, comforting hand on Thomas' shoulder. "Thomas, are you okay? Do you have more questions?" 

Thomas lightly brushed her hand away. "No... Let's just... Go where you said." 

And his chest tightened as he stood. He thought of Minho and Brenda, and he thought of Newt and Chuck. He couldn't breathe. This was all too much. 

 

 

Thomas followed the doctors, but he didn't know what to do. He couldn't contact the Right Arm. He didn't know if he wanted to. God, he just didn't know. 

As they weaved their way to the room, he thought of the Maze. Nostalgia hit him like a hammer. He wished he was back there, he wished they could've been that way forever. It was simpler, people were alive, they were safe from the Flare. Newt was so beautiful under the stars. 

They lead him to his room, and Janson assured him if he wanted to leave messages to his friends, he would get them to them somehow. And the woman offered him food, which turned out to be only a couple sandwiches despite his request for more. Their politeness annoyed him. 

***

Thomas just sat, staring at the pad he'd type his goodbye messages on. He had no intention of leaving a note on here, but he had nothing else to do. All he could do now was try to waste some time before the Right Arm got there, but somewhere deep inside, he wasn't expecting them to make in time. So just in case he was right about them not making it, he typed goodbye messages to Minho and Brenda. All the while urging them to show up, but also working on convincing himself that what he was doing was right. That he should die for this cause, for the cause that killed Newt. 

When food arrived, he ate slowly, trying to stall. He rested afterwards. He hoped they showed up in time, but if they didn't, he'd just stay in this room as long as he possibly could. 

*** 

A knock at the door startled him awake. 

"Thomas?" Rat Man called. "We really need to get started." 

Thomas began panicking. "I'm... Not ready yet." 

Rat Man opened the door. "Thomas, I'm afraid we don't have that choice. Waiting will only make it worse." 

Thomas had to admit, he was impressed with how calm they'd been until now. But he knew he had pushed his limits. Thomas sighed, his body suddenly cold. "Okay... Okay, let's just get this over with." 

***

When Thomas made it to the prep room, saw all these nurses, saw all this equipment, he suddenly knew. And he was shocked he hadn't thought of it before; Newt and Chuck would have never, in a million years, wanted this. 

And with that realization, Thomas' heart sank. It was too late for that now. "So that's it? You're just gonna cut me open now?" 

"I'm sorry," the doctor said, "but we need to start." 

Just as Rat Man was about to speak, a blaring alarm sounded. Relief flooded him like a drug. The Right Arm, it had to be. A woman swung the door open. "A Berg arrived with a delivery, but it was a trick to get people inside- they're taking over the main building." 

Then all of Thomas' elevation fell with Janson's reply; 

"Looks like we need to hurry and get this procedure started. Hurry, put him under."


	37. Chapter Sixty-One/Sixty-Two/Sixty-Three/Sixty-Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, lovlies. I think we can all agree that, when we were first reading the story, these next couple of chapters were completely awesome to read and had us on the edge of our seat the entire time. 
> 
> But in a Newtmas fanfiction, without Newt, they're a little tedious. So I'm really gonna rush through these guys. So bear with me here, I'll be sure to throw in Newt memories and emotions as much as possible, but I'mma do some serious rushing here!! Please do enjoy anyways! 
> 
> ***I do NOT own The Death Cure or any of the characters!***

Thomas couldn't move or think. Everything was on the line and now, of all times, he was frozen. 

Thomas' fear level was at an all-time high. He needed to get out of here, he didn't want this now. "Wait, I don't want to do this," he blurted. 

Apparently no wasn't an option anymore. Someone stabbed a needle into his arm and within seconds, he was on the floor. His body weak and numb. From the neck down, he couldn't do a thing. As they lifted him onto a gurney, Janson smiled, the last bits of anger washing away. "Very good. Doctor, do whatever it takes to get this procedure done." 

The doctor ran a few tests, then they were heading to the operating room. They'd only made it a couple steps when there was a large explosion from somewhere behind them, making the doctor trip and Thomas wheel into the wall. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get his body to move. 

The doctor was up in a second, more frantic this time, and pushed him into the operating room. Before Thomas knew it, he was on the bed and a woman was placing an IV in his arm. 

And as Thomas' consciousness began to slip, he knew this was ending. He was going to die. 

His last thought was being able to see Newt again, and suddenly it wasn't so bad. 

 

 

"Thomas, I have faith in you." 

It was a woman's voice, he didn't recognize it, but he was alive. God, he was relieved to be alive. Whenever he opened his eyes, the door was shutting; whoever had called him out of his drug-induced state was gone. 

Thomas was able to force himself up, surprised at how easily he could move. There were some struggles, but nothing like he thought there'd be. There was an envelope on the bedside table beside him with his name on it. Inside was a map, certain routes marked with black market. And a note for him, from Chancellor Paige. 

Apparently she stopped the operation, going against everyone else's wishes. She said they had enough data and didn't need to do this to him. She explained the routes he should take, as marked, to get out- and get his friends out. She made a comment about how they had never anticipated Thomas falling in love, and that it opened her eyes to the way they were treating them; that they deserved a new life. 

Thomas knew that Brenda trusted this woman, and Thomas trusted Brenda. 

Thomas' head was spinning. There was a Flat Trans waiting for them; this woman had just saved his life. He quickly studied the map and, much to his shock, he realized something. 

WICKED had hidden Immune in the Maze. 

 

 

Thomas followed the route through the chaos that was the WICKED compound. He needed to find the others and get them out of here. 

Eventually, he was outside. Pushing a lid-like door up and heaving himself out onto the snow. Looking at the sky, Thomas had no idea how long he'd been in there. He skirted around the building until he heard talking. Then he saw the Berg, by the blown-open hole. And there were two Right Arm fighters sitting there. He opened his mouth to shout to them when someone grabbed him, wrapping an arm around his chest and securing one over his mouth. The man began dragging him back. 

The man threw him on the snow on his stomach and sat on him, keeping his hand on Thomas' mouth. Then Janson was there, crouching before him. "I'm very disappointed in her," he said, "it seems not everyone in the organization is on the same page." 

All Thomas could do was struggle as Janson sighed and said; 

"I guess we're going to have to do this the hard way."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It also dawned on me that when I started redoing this series, I promised to post one-shots here and there for if people wanted a break, or weren't interested in this and I completely forgot! I will resume doing that!! If anyone has prompt requests, I accept those. (And you will get credit!)


	38. Chapter Sixty-Five/Sixty-Six/Sixty-Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm the worst, guys. 
> 
> I said I was going to post a one-shot, and intended to, but took the idea and found a way to make it a chapter work XD I think it's only going to be like five chapters, though, so if you want to go check that out, please do :) 
> 
> Anyway, let's continue this mad rushing until we can get to the happy version of The Death Cure :D 
> 
> ***I do NOT own The Death Cure or any of the characters!***

Janson pulled out a long, slender knife. "I never thought I was a very violent person, but you really have managed to push me to some limits, kid." 

Thomas relaxed. Struggling was doing nothing other than showing them he wasn't willing to cooperate, and showing that them meant they wouldn't trust him enough to give an opening to get away. And he needed to get away. Now that he had come to terms with the fact that Newt wouldn't have wanted this for him, he wasn't damn well about to let it happen to him. 

The man told him he'd let him go if he didn't make any noise. Thomas agreed. 

Then he took that chance to swing his legs free and kick Rat Man in the face. Then the knife had to go; he kicked, sending it spinning off through the snow until it hit the building. 

Thomas watched it go, and that was all the other guy needed to tackle him. 

Adrenaline hit him hard. Pure and insane and frantic. He kicked and scratched and writhed and did whatever it would take to get away. Finally, he managed to get away and got the knife. He had expected them to be on him, but they were still seeming to grasp the intensity of Thomas' sudden strength. 

He stood, holding out the knife in front of him. "Just let me go and nobody gets hurt." 

"Two against one, kid." Janson said, not sounding impressed. 

Thomas held his ground, trying to keep strength in his voice. "You know what I can do, you saw it in all those tests." 

The man scoffed, "If you think-" 

Thomas didn't have time for this. He did as Gally had done, and threw the blade. It hit the other man right in the neck. Thomas had to admit, he was shocked he had just done that. But if he wanted to get out of there with his friends and the other Immunes, he couldn't wait. He took off in a sprint towards the Right Arm fighters armed at the Berg, waving his arms. "It's me! I'm Thomas!" 

The Right Arm people looked confused, but didn't also calmed. They asked him briefly where he'd been, apparently they were all looking for him, then Janson came sprinting after him. The horrifying rage on his face- he had seen it before, on Newt's. 

Janson was infected, he had The Flare. 

It didn't take long for Janson to realize he wasn't going to win, and he did the smart thing and left. Thomas wasted no time, bounding inside where he saw Vince and Gally. He made his way to them, trying to explain to them about the Immunes in the Maze. Then Thomas realized maybe the Right Arm wasn't the best thing. Because Vince didn't care. Thomas had signed up when he thought they would steal WICKED's resources and use them for the greater good, not blowing the place up. Now Thomas wasn't so sure. 

He turned to Gally. "Come with me." 

Vince said something that he and Gally ignored, and Gally stared at him, sadness in his eyes. And something else; Trust, genuine trust. 

"Gally, wouldn't you have wanted someone to come save you from the Maze? Please Gally, come with me." 

Then Gally smiled. "Okay." 

Thomas didn't wait, he grabbed Gally's arm and began pulling him to the room where Vince had told him Minho and the others were. Once inside, he was trapped in a bear hug by Minho. Then Brenda, then Jorge, then Teresa, then Aris. Harriet smiled nearby. All of them ecstatic to see him, and his heart swelled. He missed Newt, but God, he was thankful for them. Thomas quickly explained to them the situation and about the Gladers in the Maze. 

 

 

He showed them the note and the map, Brenda knew right where it was. 

They made their break for it, Vince yelling at them, calling them crazy, telling them they'd be killed. Thomas could hear Newt now; 'We'll save those bloody kids or we'll die tryin'.' And even if it wasn't real, it gave Thomas strength. He would die for this, so long that it would've sat well with Newt. 

Brenda led the way, Thomas never stopping. He was a Runner again, and despite the situation, it felt good. 

As they ran down some stairs, they were attacked. Thomas didn't want to, but it came down to him having to kill the woman. When he was up, he saw everyone was alive and okay, so they continued. 

***

They ended up in the observation room, the one they had wound up in when they escaped the Maze. The windows were still shattered. Thomas remembered the way he had made sure to keep Newt behind him at all times when they were in this room, and he remembered the way Chuck looked as he died. His heart twisted. 

Brenda pointed out a ladder and Thomas wished they could've found that instead of the slimy Griever chute. 

Within seconds, they were heading up. 

Then they were in another room he recognized; where they had typed in the code. Thomas' heart cried- he remembered little Chuck, he had been so scared, but so brave. He was so brave. He turned and it was like he could see Newt wailing and falling through the Griever Hole again, he could feel the euphoria he had felt in that moment, running over to him, so happy that he had survived. 

"I can't believe we're back here," Teresa said from beside him.

Something fell together then with a wave of emotion, and Thomas couldn't explain it. But for some reason, hearing her say that, being back here again doing the same thing as last time- trying to save lives- made it all okay. The resentment, for now, was gone. He loved her, God, she was his best friend and he loved her so much. And she was here, she was helping, and that was all that mattered. 

"Crazy, huh?" he said, smiling at her. 

She smiled back. And it had been so long since he had last seen her smile. "Crazy." His heart warmed. 

There was a ladder there, and Thomas was the first to clamber up it. When he was up there, he had to pause. The sky they had once laid under, their love blossoming, was now shut off. A dull gray. It made Thomas' heart hurt. The tall ivy walls were still as tall and daunting as before. He remembered what Newt had told him, about how he got his limp. And Thomas shuddered; there's a certain sort of sicked, twisted bravery to be able to climb that and then let yourself fall from there. 

Thomas took a look around, and memories good and bad gripped his heart so hard, he was sure he'd die. 

He was back.


	39. Chapter Sixty-Eight/Sixty-Nine/Chapter Seventy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovlies :) 
> 
> Another update for you! Sorry it's a little later than usual, I have a friend over tonight. Though, tomorrow is the only day I have of school next week, so Death Cure will probably be done by Tuesday! Yay! And then we'll start the happier version the next day :D 
> 
> ***I do NOT own The Death Cure or any of the characters!***

Minho led the way through the Maze, his chest puffed out proudly. 

No one spoke as they jogged through the Maze. Thomas could only imagine what Brenda and Jorge thought of their maze. 

When they reached the Glade, there were hundreds of people milling around. Horror filled Thomas' chest when he even saw babies and small children among them. It didn't take long, but soon enough the Immunes were murmuring and watching the new arrivals. 

And only seconds after that, they're friends were noticing him; Frypan, Clint, Sonya, the other girls from Group B. They all came running, more hugs and reunions. Thomas' heart twisted, wishing he could have another reunion with Newt. He would always wish for just one more. 

It dawned on Thomas very soon that they'd need to take people in groups. There was about four-five hundred people, so he decided groups of fifty should suffice. After they had managed to get them into groups, Thomas began speaking to them, trying to quickly explain to them the plan- when a loud crack interrupted him, like stone splintering. 

"What was that?" Minho asked, shocked. 

Thomas looked around, everything seemed in place. But as he was going to begin talking again, there was another crack. And then another one, then another one. The ground was shaking, and people were beginning to look around in a sort of panic. Thomas knew he'd lose control soon if he didn't do something soon. Thomas eyes widened. "The explosives! The Right Arm!" 

The place started falling apart now, large chunks of wall and stone falling apart. Then a large chunk of stone fell at an impossible angle, and before Thomas could say a thing, the giant section of stone fell on a group of people. 

Thomas stared, wide-eyed, as blood oozed and pooled all around the stone. 

 

 

The wounded wailed. 

The Maze was falling apart. 

"Run!" Thomas screamed, and no one needed to be told twice. 

Then everything turned into somewhat organized chaos. Thomas started barking orders; Minho and Gally going to take up the rear, Brenda and Jorge trying to communicate some order to start filing the Immunes out, and Thomas getting Teresa to reach him so they could lead the way. 

When the dawning realization that the roof would fall in soon, they sprinted out. 

Things were falling apart as they tried to escape, but he had to keep going. Thomas needed to assess the survivors as he went along, but he could barely stand to look. Every time he saw someone die, someone crying, someone struggling. 

Thomas waited for most of the people go through before pushing himself ahead, needing to lead. They made it through the Griever Hole. Just as they were getting ready to go, Teresa turned, her eyes wide with horror. 

The Griever pods were opening. 

 

 

Teresa stole his attention, giving him direction on an easy way to kill the Grievers- with a switch. 

Thomas had Teresa keep people moving while he headed to the Grievers. It proved to be a bit taxing, but he managed to do it, pulling the handle-like switch and killing the Griever instantly. 

It went smoothly for awhile, and he was able to deactivate them before they made it out. Except one, one escaped before Thomas could do a thing. Minho helped him, and together, they tried to distract the Griever while the Immunes began making their way down the chutes. 

As Thomas was prepping himself for a battle with this thing, Teresa suddenly threw herself into it. Thomas screamed, not sure what to do. "Just go!" Teresa screamed, kicking and clawing. Thomas desperately started searching for some way to hit the Griever without hitting Teresa. 

"Tom, just go!" she screamed, being pressed into the Griever's body. 

He couldn't let her die, not after everyone. Not after Newt, he couldn't lose anyone so close to him again. He just couldn't bear it anymore. 

Thomas leaped, stabbing his pipe into the Griever. He managed to take an appendage off. When Teresa managed to get away, Thomas dove his hand into the creature's body, finding the handle and pulling. It died just as it almost killed Teresa. 

They didn't have long to dawn on it, though. They had to go.


	40. Chapter Seventy-One/Seventy-Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovlies! 
> 
> I am very excited to say that tomorrow is the beginning of my Thanksgiving break, so I can update A LOT. And unless something crazy happens, we should be done with this Death Cure by Thursday, at the LATEST. And then we will start the happy Death Cure :D 
> 
> And guess, we are well over 2,000! So amazing, it goes up everyday, and I am so grateful!!! Oh, and this one's a bit longer cause another death in this chapter means more sad emotions and whatnot. And Thomas killing Janson was easy to bring some crazy Newtmas into... Enjoy! 
> 
> ***I do NOT own Death Cure or any of the characters!***

At least two hundred people made it out of the Maze. 

Thomas pushed his way through to the front, finding Brenda who wrapped him in a hug. He let out a sigh of relief that she was alive; he didn't want to lose anyone else dear to him. 

The hallway lights flickered, most of them had gone out from the explosions that were still thundering somewhere in the distance. 

The trek from their was exhausting. Up several flights of stairs, down some- in every which direction. But Thomas refused to let the fatigue stop him. He just thought of Newt and was able to keep moving. 

But soon enough, they made it. Not losing anyone else along the way, too. Thomas couldn't help but scoff at the irony; the leader of WICKED had helped him. Though Thomas had to admit it, he still resented WICKED for what they put Newt through. 

Thomas realized, though, that this too could be a trap. He had to check to make sure just where this Flat Trans was going to take everyone once they were inside. Thomas sincerely hoped that WICKED wasn't that slimy. 

So Thomas went through, thinking about the first time. He remembered rushing through, and ending up afraid in the darkness. Afraid because he thought he was blind, afraid because he didn't where Newt was or anyway to find him in the darkness. Once again, with Newt with him, he stepped through. 

He was shocked. 

He was in a little wooden shed whose door was open, leading out to green. So much green. Exhilarated, he stepped back through. "Come on!" he called, his heart leaping. Finally, finally he and his friends were going to be safe. Though his heart dropped soon after, thinking of Chuck and Newt. And how they never made it. Thomas wished with all his heart that he could've seen their reactions to the place. 

Another explosion racked the place, and with that, people were going in. 

Finally, things were moving smoothly. People were stepping in one by one. Thomas weaved through the people and found his friends; Minho, Brenda, Teresa, Jorge, Aris, Gally, Frypan, the few members of Group B. This was it, they were going to make it. 

"Well what do we have here?" 

Gasps filled the room, and Thomas spun to see who had spoken, though he already knew. 

Rat Man. 

And with him, he brought guards. There were only seven, they could handle them. Before long, Rat Man and his guards had knives. "We can salvage a few of you. And it looks like we've got the best and brightest right here," he said through a deadly sneer. 

Thomas and his friends had spread into a line, protecting the dwindling prisoners. Quickly, Thomas and his friends looked around for anything they could use as weapons. Thomas found a gnarled piece of thick cabling. Minho glared, "Let's just get this over with." 

Janson looked down the line of teenagers, icy madness in his eyes. 

"Gladly." 

 

 

As the two groups went at each other, another explosion rocked the floor under their feet. Somehow, Thomas managed to keep his balance. Thomas helped Gally up after he had fallen, and then the two groups were at each other. Thomas found himself paired off with Janson- towering at least a foot and a half over him. 

At first it was just a flurry of blows, weapons slicing and hitting and missing; until the floor shook again. Thomas stumbled into Janson's chest and they both fell to the ground. Thomas had lost his weapon, but ended up on top of Janson, punching him over and over. Somehow, somewhere, sometime Janson had become Thomas' representation of what was wrong with WICKED. What had killed Newt. 

And suddenly, what Thomas had said about not wanting revenge didn't seem so true. 

Janson arched his back, sending Thomas scrambling backwards and landing on his back. Janson straddled Thomas' chest, pinning Thomas' arms with his knees. Then he started punching him over and over, and Thomas could do nothing to protect his face- pain like individual spears striking his face. Then adrenaline hit; he wasn't going to die here, not without making Janson pay for what he had done to Newt. Thomas pressed his feet against the floor, then pushed up with his legs, his stomach rising. It definitely wasn't much, but it was enough to get Janson off his arms. 

Thomas blocked Janson's next punch, then sent one of his own. Hard. Brutal. 

Janson fell off him and Thomas tried to get up, but Janson was on him again. Thomas went absolutely nuts; kicking, scratching, punching, squirming- anything to have the advantage. Then Thomas got the upper hand, then Janson, both of them rolling- one or the other could only get the upper hand for a couple seconds before they were rolling again, beating each other senseless. 

Then something horrendous happened. 

Thomas slammed his elbow into Janson's nose, getting the upper hand- wrapping his hands around Janson's throat. His world turned red, he was deaf, his insides burned, and he had no idea what was going on around him. Just under him. 

And then he thought of Newt. He thought of his smile and, squeezed harder around Janson's neck. He thought of the way Newt threw his head back to laugh, and squeezed even harder. He thought of the misery on Newt's face from time to time, and felt snapping and straining under his fingertips. He thought of the way Newt sobbed when he begged to be killed, and he felt someone smack his head and yell at him. 

He thought of the way Newt looked when he was dead, and saw the same pale, battered death on Janson's face. 

Finally, he stopped seeing red and the world came crashing down around him. "He's dead!" Minho was screaming, "he's dead!" 

Thomas forced himself to let go, in somewhat of a daze after the blood-lust he had been stuck in. He didn't remember truly seeing or hearing anything real while he killed Janson; just Newt. Just his sweet Newt. 

And now that he was back, his heart hurt for Newt all over again, but there was chaos literally raining down around him and he needed to focus. When Minho pulled him to his feet, they were running to the maintenance room- debris raining and falling while the entire place shook relentlessly. 

As they ran, they fell. Each one helping the other here and there, everyone sprinting, everyone scared. 

Then he heard a splintering noise so loud that he had to look. A massive section of the ceiling had come down and was falling right to him. He thought of Newt somewhere in the back of his mind, and he froze, watching his death coming at him. 

Then he saw Teresa, for a fraction of a second out of the corner out of his eye. He felt her slam into him, sending him flying and stumbling towards the maintenance room. He looked over just in time to see the ceiling crush her; the only thing jutting out from under it was her head and an arm. "Teresa!" Thomas screamed, the most unearthly sound he had ever heard himself make. 

He saw Chuck's lifeless body fall to the ground, Newt's head violently snap to the side as a bullet stole his last breath. Chuck. Newt. Teresa, now. All had been so precious to him, all stolen away by WICKED. 

His heart hurt so bad. He wished he hadn't hated her, he wished he had believed her. He wished with all his might that he had never treated her so coldly. All she had ever done was for him. All of it, everything. And Thomas shot her down every time. Tears stung his eyes and misery gripped him so tightly, he let out a choked sob. "I'm so sorry," he whispered, on his hands and knees now to be closer to her. 

Her mouth moved, trying to work. He leaned in close to hear. 

"Me too..." she whispered, broken, dying. "I... only ever.... cared... for..."

Then Thomas was being yanked to his feet and dragged away. He let himself go. He didn't have the will or the energy to go on. How could he? He couldn't breathe, he couldn't think past the endless pain he was drowning in. His Chuck, His Newt, His Teresa. Gone forever. 

But he ran. 

Whether it was for those of his friends still living, or for those who were dead, he didn't know. But he continued on. 

Everyone was already inside the Flat Trans by now. One by one, they made it. 

And then Thomas ran through the icy gray wall.


	41. Chapter Seventy-Three (Final Chapter!)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WE HAVE DONE IT LOVLIES. We have made it to the last chapter :) 
> 
> I just want to say how grateful I am. Especially for the readers who stayed even after my long, long break off this story. Life kept me away from it, and I still feel bad about that :( But yeah, I just cannot tell you guys how much it means to me that you have stayed and read this. Every time I open my email to see I've got comments, or kudos, or that the hit count has gone up, it just makes me so emotional :') I feel like we've completed another journey together, and I love you all so much :')
> 
> This story is finishing with 2,067 hits, 96 kudos, and 106 comments! And those hits go up every day, even on the past installments, which is so amazing. Thank you all just SO much :') 
> 
> I love you guys so much! The Happy Death Cure will be out either late tonight or early tomorrow morning :) I can't wait to see you then! So for the last time for the original Death Cure: 
> 
> Enjoy lovlies! 
> 
> ***I do NOT own The Death Cure or any of the characters!***

When Thomas came through, he ended up on his hands and knees, coughing and spitting. His heart wouldn’t slow, he felt awful. 

Thankfully, Brenda shut off the Flat Trans somehow. The last thing Thomas wanted was some debris to come flying through just as they had made it out. 

“You two need to get out,” Brenda said, urgency in her voice. “There’s one last thing I need to do.” 

“My shuck brain can’t taking anymore thinking. Come on, let’s just let her do whatever she wants,” Minho said, looking over at Thomas. 

Thomas nodded. “Good that.” 

When he looked at Minho, he saw everything they had just been through. The pain, the death, and now, the relief? They were safe now. He should be happy, but the pain of all he lost was weighing him down. Looking at Minho, his best friend, was the only thing keeping the tears away. Despite all the time that had passed, all the near death encounters, all the dangers- Minho was still there, and had been from the very beginning. 

Thomas swore to himself he’d never tell Minho what he had done to Newt. 

“Good that for sure, shuck-face.” he said, but his trademark smirk was missing. Rather, he looked like he understood; understood how Thomas felt right now, and that he felt the same. 

They managed to finally get up and walk out of the little shed. The moment they were out, they stopped again. 

He couldn’t believe it. They were now standing in a place they had been told didn’t exist. Thomas’ eyes filled with tears right there- he wished Chuck and Teresa and Newt could’ve seen this. 

All he wanted in that moment was to feel Newt take his hand. 

Brenda came back out of the shed, the thing already engulfing in flames. “Just making sure?” Thomas asked, moving a couple steps away from it. 

She nodded. “Just making sure.”

Thomas nodded and turned his attention back to it. Trees and grass, the beach in the distance, mountains and sky and everything he thought was gone. This was paradise. He just wished that someday his heart could stop mourning enough to see that, too. 

*** 

A couple hours later and Thomas was sitting on a cliff, staring out over the water. 

Minho had already taken charge back in the forest, organizing the people and their new place to live. Thomas was relieved he had been so ready for the roll, Thomas doubted he could ever handle any sort of responsibility again. 

And so he sat, alone, staring out over the darkening sky. 

He was done. 

Somewhere in the world, they’d be dealing with humankind, trying to find a cure or letting it all burn. Either way, he couldn’t care less anymore. He didn’t want to be a part of it, ever. 

Instead he sat, and he took some time to remember Newt, as he had wanted to be remembered. 

He imagined Newt behind him, his arms wrapped around Thomas’ shoulders, watching the sun fall with him. He imagined Teresa on the other side, smiling, gently teasing through their minds. He imagined Chuck on his other side, talking nonstop. 

He let out a long breath, and when he opened his eyes again, he was back in the real world. 

Though, he glanced back at the forest below him, seeing Minho barking orders at people. Wide-eyed newcomers hurriedly following his requests. Brenda and Jorge sitting along the sidelines, watching and talking. Gally, leaning against a tree, not able to take his eyes off the ocean a little ways away. 

And Thomas smiled. 

‘Ya see that, Newt?’ he thought. 

‘We did it. We made it.’


End file.
